


Summer Skeletons

by bornslippy



Category: Split (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Awkward First Times, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Past Sexual Abuse, Pining, Slow Burn, awkward dennis, kind of an AU, unspoken feelings, will update tags as i write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9946223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornslippy/pseuds/bornslippy
Summary: Fill for a Prompt on the split kink meme:"Casey is a high school student who makes friends with the schools angry and strange maintenance man, Dennis"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: http://bornslippey.tumblr.com
> 
> just a heads up, there will be mentions of abuse in this fic.

　　Class comes to an end after a brief explanation of next weeks assignment and the classroom becomes busy with noise once again. Casey doesn’t hurry to grab her things, checking the time on her phone before putting away her books in her bag and gathering her things. There’s no rush to head home. There never is. There’s nothing to go home for. She decides to procrastinate and take the time to study for an upcoming geometry test, pushing past a couple of students lingering in the doorway to make her way to the library. The library is quiet and secluded, the door doing its best to seal away the noise from the hallway outside. There’s a few groups of students sitting around different tables, talking and joking quietly among each other. She finds an empty spot before pulling her notes out of her bag and setting them on the table.   
　　  
　　It hasn’t been more than 15 minutes before the door to the library swings open, the loud clatter from a step-ladder catching her attention. It’s the school’s maintenance man Dennis who’s made the noise and he quietly proceeds to his goal, a dead fluorescent bulb in the tiled ceiling that’s been flickering for several days now. He’s deep-chested and tall with broad shoulders, dressed in a grey button-up work shirt that hugs his form. His hair is close-shaven and it gives him a very authoritarian look. Dennis’ steely eyes glance over his glasses only momentarily towards her direction before turning back to his task, ascending the ladder to discard the bulb. Casey has only one earphone in, but she’s not paying attention to the music now. The students across from her at the other table are glancing sideways at Dennis, murmuring quietly among themselves.   
　　  
　　“That guy has some sort of sharp, splintery stick up his ass.” A boy scoffs, twirling a well-worn pencil skillfully. The girl beside him frowns, flipping her long, dark hair to her other shoulder. “He’s honestly kind of a creep. He was definitely checking out the cheerleaders last week when he was working on that hole in the fence.” Her voice is hushed and low. Casey isn’t a fan of eavesdropping, or gossip in general, but she finds herself almost curious about Dennis. There’s a truth in what they say, regardless if it’s cruel or not. Casey’s heard stories about him from students and teachers alike, his meticulousness, his obsession with cleanliness and how it’s impossible to even hold small talk with him. She recalls hearing her english teacher comment to someone about how closely he keeps to himself. Casey glances back down to her notebook, page still empty save for a few eraser shavings, and inwardly finds it stupid to think about the man that much. He’s weird, but he fixes things when they break and that’s all that matters. It’s no one’s business but his own, she guesses.  
　　  
　　Minutes soon gather into an hour and a half and the library slowly begins to empty out. Dennis has left long ago, something as simple as changing a light bulb only takes a few minutes and the once dim corner now is filled with pale light from the new one. There’s notes and problems scrawled across her notebook now, and she’s already texted her uncle that she’d be staying a little later to study, so for now she has all the time in the world. Casey reveres this time when she’s alone, quiet with nothing but her thoughts. She doesn’t mind being alone like this. Sometimes, in the past, Casey would find herself longing for friends, for a group to attach herself to and surround herself with. But she almost prefers it this way now, it’s peaceful and the solitude almost comes as a blessing to her.   
　　  
　　Casey’s attention is snagged by the soft tinkling sound of keys and looks up, the door to the library swinging open. It’s Dennis once again, and she realizes how late it’s gotten. He’s making the rounds now, making sure everything’s locked. His hand pauses over the light switch when he notices her, brows knitted together in his usual neutral expression. There’s a look in his eye that’s almost anxious when he notices her sitting in there still. “Uh... Excuse me, Miss?” He asks, clearing his throat. He immediately looks down when she looks up at him to speak. “Sorry. Lost track of time.” Casey states plainly before compliantly gathering her things and stuffing them away into her bag. “What are you still doing here? Are you waiting on someone?” Dennis asks, and up close she can take in the finer details of him.  
　　  
　　His eyes are a stone blue, cold and almost criticizing in appearance. He adjusts his glasses before folding his arms, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No, I’ll get out of your way. I can just call my ride, it’s no big deal.” Casey said, slinging the strap to her bag over her shoulder and rising from the chair. Dennis pauses, like he wants to say something, but doesn’t and quickly moves out of her way. “Goodnight.” Casey calls casually over her shoulder as she walks out of the door. Her house isn’t that far from the school, she’ll call her uncle and just wait outside for him. A familiar feeling rises in her stomach as she thinks about going home. It starts deep in the pit of her stomach and feels heavier than lead, a thick seed of dread and anxiety. Casey pushes it away as soon as it manifests and steps outside of the school into the late afternoon sun.   
　　  
　　Returning home for Casey is an idea that invokes dread in her, no matter how many years have passed. She can manage better now than she used to, it’s more of a numb feeling now than the sharp sense of panic that used to overcome her. The panic still comes now and then but Casey has evolved to manage it accordingly. It’s taken years of practice and it’s still not perfect but she’s refined it now. There’s not so many ups-and-downs, just a steady dead feeling. Home is sanctuary, a safe place to return to when the world outside is sharp and dangerous. Family is there to protect you and guide you through life. None of these things were this for Casey. She leans against the red brick of the school building and draws her phone out of her pocket, pulling up her recent calls and dialing her uncle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots, and lots of awkward Dennis.

　　It’s mid-afternoon when Casey makes her way to the library again the next day. The halls are busy and noisy and she feels dread mixed with faint agitation when she peers through the glass doors of the library to see that it’s crowded today. She purses her lips and thinks for a moment before turning away and walking towards the exit. Even though it’s only September there’s already a faint chill beginning to settle in the air and the entire atmosphere seems like it’s changed, welcoming autumn. It’s much quieter outside and Casey sits down at one of the few tables that are lined up along the side of the school building, setting her bag down beside her feet and pulling out her phone. She doesn’t really have any work to do or really much to study for today, but there’s no point in heading straight home just yet. Her phone buzzes quietly in her palm and her eyes glance down to see a text from her uncle.   
　　  
　　 _”Hey, car’s busted again. Will be late to pick you up, sorry.”_ The notification on her screen displays the text and her eyes linger on it until her screen dims again and she breathes in deeply. The weather was nice and she had all the time in the world to wait as far as she was concerned. Casey sets her elbow on the table, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she looked upwards at the sky. This time of year, the transition from late summer into fall was always special. Every year around this time she still manages to feel the nostalgic prickle of excitement, October marking the beginning of deer season. Once her father died, Casey quickly lost her interest in hunting. Perhaps it wasn’t so much a loss of interest, but her lack of desire to go on extended trips into the forest with uncle John. But still, her internal clock still ticks quietly and gives a faint reminder every fall, an echo in the back of her mind. The wind gusts quietly and sends leaves stirring in a lazy circle where they’ve gathered in the corner of the brick walls, drawing her attention to the present moment.   
　　  
　　The warmth of the sun fades slowly from her back as one of the many puffy clouds in the sky rolls across it and she looks up to notice someone familiar. She recognizes Dennis, once again clad in his neatly pressed work uniform. Broom in one hand and the long handle of a dustpan in his other, his concentration is centered on a stray can that rolls a few lazy inches with the gentle push of the breeze. Casey doesn’t say anything to him, simply watches as he clinically sweeps the can into the dustpan and inspects a little further up the sidewalk. She briefly recalls his obsession with order and cleanliness and thinks it’s almost a little interesting to see it in action. When he looks up and catches her eye he almost appears startled like he didn’t realize she had been sitting there. The silence quickly becomes awkward but not unbearable. “You’re alone again?” Dennis finally speaks and the words that come out surprise Casey. It wasn’t too unusual to see people sitting by themselves and minding their own business and there were certainly other students who were usually by themselves as well.   
　　  
　　Casey quietly nods her head, tucking a strand of dark brown hair back behind her ear where it had fallen from. “Um, yeah. I guess so.” She said, the toes of her shoes scuffling idly on the concrete. “No ones... Giving you trouble are they?” Dennis asks her and Casey has to stop herself from snorting with amusement. “No, nothing like that. I just really don’t mind being by myself, honestly.” Casey assures him, finding it strange that he’s even concerned about it in the first place. She wonders if he’s overheard teachers discussing her. It wasn’t that she wasn’t intelligent, she just didn’t care for any of her classes or anyone in it. Getting into trouble just gave her more time to be by herself, despite the reputation that came with it. Dennis wasn’t the only one people gossiped about. He nods slowly and runs a hand across the top of his shaven head before letting it fall to his side. “Um.. I’m Dennis.” He introduces himself despite the fact he’s wearing an embroidered name patch over his left breast, and extends his hand to her. She hesitates for only a moment before she lets a thin smile cross her lips then takes his hand in her much smaller one, shaking it gently. “Casey.” She says quietly. It’s odd, suddenly finding yourself talking to the schools anti-social maintenance man, let alone becoming his acquaintance   
　　  
　　“You must get good grades if you’re always staying late to study.” Dennis comments, shifting his weight uneasily from one leg to the next. “Not really.. I only study if I really need to pass something.” Casey speaks carefully. “And there’s not much of a reason to go home.” She adds, straightening her shoulders momentarily to stretch her back before slumping again, elbows resting on the table. Dennis seems to absorb her last words, brow twitching. “I... Can understand that.” His voice is quiet and he seems to pick and choose his words. She smiles politely yet again when he empathizes with her and part of Casey almost looks down on him. Casey knew most people couldn’t empathize with her. It wasn’t a matter of being an ungrateful kid and not giving a hell about your parents who bent over backwards for you, it was because home was a muddy, slippery pit that she had to return to every night. Memories of home and childhood were a cross she had to bear that many wouldn’t understand. She’d run away several times, but never made it very far and the consequences were too much for her to ever attempt again and she had simply settled on waiting until she had a way out.   
　　  
　　But another part of Casey wondered if maybe he really could understand. She wasn’t dense enough to believe that she was the only person who had ever suffered any kind of anguish in her life, but it was easy enough to shrug your shoulders and tell someone you knew how they feel. Something about Dennis made her indecisive, curious almost. She would have made up some excuse to walk away from anyone else after this sort of conversation and yet she was still here, staring back into his eyes as he stood before her wondering if he really did understand. She glances at her phone to check and see if her uncle has texted her again and sighs quietly when she sees nothing on her screen. “If you want, I can wait out here with you.” Dennis breaks the silence she hadn’t realized had fallen on them once again. When she glances back at him he almost looks anxious, like he was instantly regretting the offer. “It’s just- It’s getting darker earlier and I wouldn’t feel comfortable... Leaving you out here in the dark and all.” He adds quickly, looking away and habitually rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.” Dennis clears his throat and turns to walk away. “No-” Casey blurts out. Dennis pauses, slowly turning back to face her with tense shoulders, left hand gripping the handle of the broom and dustpan with bright white knuckles. “I would like that.” She stammers, nodding her head.   
　　  
　　Dennis has a faint look of genuine surprise across his stoic features and Casey shifts a little, the grid pattern of the table’s seat becoming uncomfortable. “It’s nice to have someone to wait with once in a while.” Casey speaks again like she’s almost trying to reassure him and he slowly takes a seat beside her. He’s not unbearably close, and carefully leans the dustpan and broom against the table before knitting his fingers together and letting them fall between his knees. It’s suddenly quiet between them again and Casey feels like kicking herself in the head. She could have easily just blown him off and found somewhere else to wait and now she’s forced herself into this situation. Casey bites her lip gently before turning to face him. She had to deal with it, she guessed. “It must suck having to clean up after highschoolers all day.” She shuffles her feet quietly, clawing for any subject to talk about. He glances momentarily at her and nods subtly. “It’s not so bad. I’m... used to cleaning a lot.” Dennis elaborates, eyes drifting from Casey across the table and to the ground. “There’s worse habits, I guess.” Casey says casually before tucking the same strand of hair back behind her ear. A faint smile, or what looks like one, pulls at the corners of Dennis’ mouth and he adjusts his glasses. “What did you do before you came here?” Casey is straining to keep the conversation going, but she is genuinely curious about where he had been before here. His muscular build and shaved head makes her wonder if he had been in the military at one point or another. “Same job, just at the zoo.” He answers quietly. “The pay is a little better here.” Dennis adds to answer what would be a potential next question. “That must have been nice. I would love to work with animals.” Casey feels like she sounds stupid, like some sort of middle school kid rambling about how bad she wants to grow up and be a vet or something. She’d thought about it before. “I’m better with fixing machines.” Dennis presses his thumbs together, idly fidgeting.   
　　  
　　He’s really strange, there’s no doubt in Casey’s mind, but she really cant help the fact that she finds herself enjoying his company. She’s hung out with a couple of girls from her class before and it wasn’t like she thought they were bad people, but it just felt they were on a completely different plane of existence like that. She often felt like an alien, coming down to everyone’s strange planet to make awkward contact whenever she made attempts to befriend other kids from the school. And suddenly there was a man, probably double her age, sitting beside her having a painfully awkward conversation with her and she felt like she’d met someone from her own planet, in a way. It was weird. He was weird. Casey herself felt like that was okay, she was a little weird too. Headlights suddenly come into view as the calm, familiar rumble of her uncles truck purrs into earshot. Casey grabs her book bag and heaves the strap across her shoulder before turning to Dennis. “That’s my ride, I have to get going now...” She pauses, brown eyes fixated on Dennis’ blue ones. “It was nice to meet you Dennis. Thanks for waiting with me.” She adds, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly upwards and he nods. “Mmhmm. Goodnight.” He says, also rising from his seat and grabbing his broom. A surprising amount of time had passed with their encounter and it was about time for him to start locking up anyways, her uncle had made good timing. Casey makes her way to the old Ford and the hinges on the door squeal stubbornly as she climbs in. “Hey Casey-bear.” Her uncle greets her normally and she says nothing as she buckles herself in, resting her elbow on the ledge on the door. “Sorry I’m late, I really need to get this thing traded in for something better.” Casey only half listens as he speaks, the truck growling away down the parking lot. “Yeah.” She offers a half-hearted answer, her gaze turning out the window.  
　　  
　　Rows of pine trees speed past the window as they turn out onto the main road and she rests her head against the thin pane of glass, eyes slipping shut. She thinks about Dennis, muscular and strange, conscientious and focused. Peculiar Dennis who offered to sit with her while the sky turned from blue to duskier bruised colors. It feels silly thinking this much about someone who she had just met, and barely knew. She internally chastises herself for looking too deeply into it, but it was refreshing. It was refreshing for someone to want to look out for you instead of wanting to hurt you. Part of her wonders if he’s thinking as much as she’s thinking about him. It’s doubtful, he probably goes home to a wife and kids every evening and has probably already forgotten about the late afternoon’s events. She sits up straight in her chair, pulling away from the window and pulls her thoughts away from Dennis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a longer chapter but i hope it's worth the read!
> 
> TW for some descriptions of past abuse. Nothing in detail, but still a warning for anyone it may bother.

　　The air is cool but the sun beaming down directly over Dennis is hot and stifling. The breeze will stir occasionally, offering brief relief from the warmth as he twists a bolt back into place at the base of the metal beam supporting the bleachers. He sits back for a moment and draws a cloth out of his pocket to dab at the perspiration that was beginning to bead on his forehead. Dennis absolutely hates sweating, but it’s one of the many pains that comes with this line of work. He inspects the bolt to make sure it’s secure before putting the socket wrench back into his bag. Thoughts of the previous afternoon begin to come back into his head and he exhales quietly through his nose. He feels stupid for going out of his way to speak to her and he’s sure he either scared the hell out of her or completely embarrassed himself. Probably both, he decides and his teeth shift against each other as he clenches his jaw. She’s plain but has an unusual prettiness to her, wide-set brown eyes peering at him still a palpable memory fresh in his mind. Did she go home that night and text her friends about the weird man who sat with her while she waited for her ride? Her boyfriend perhaps? He doesn’t want to entertain that last thought and quickly dismisses it from his mind, but he knows it’s probably true. She’s evoked a sense of curiosity in him though and he _wants_ to talk to her again, for their paths to coincidentally cross yet again. It’s stupid and he knows how bad it would look on the outside. He already knows it probably looks bad from the inside, and he feels a sense of regret settle over him. But what if she hadn’t minded? He doubts it but reflects to their conversation yesterday. She prefers to be alone, but stopped him when he turned away to leave her alone and accepted his offer. The girl probably just didn’t want to be rude to him but what if she really hadn’t minded and had enjoyed his company? Dennis is doubtful, but the thought is nice.  
　　  
　　He’d wondered about her reluctance to go back home and it brought him back to when he had been her age. Then again, what teenage girl wanted to go home every day and study when she could be doing other, more entertaining things? Of course she wouldn’t want to go home when she could be out spending time with friends. A familiar feeling settles in his stomach. He detested the thought of home at her age too but it was because of other reasons, reasons that she probably didn’t understand or wouldn’t ever care to. Memories of home and his mother are sparks of dull pain that still press heavily on his heart. She’s been gone from his life for a long time now, and he still has to remind himself that she actually is gone. He finds himself still scrubbing the grout and caulk in the bathroom on his hands and knees, still waiting to hear his name being called from down the hallway when things are unsatisfactory. But no one ever calls for him, and no one else will see the clean white between each individual tile except for him. He’s completely alone now, has been for years, but the memories and traces of his mother are still very much alive inside of him. A prevalent reminder of the past that’s still tightly clinging to his back. Dennis hopes that for her sake Casey wouldn’t be able to relate. Clearing his throat, Dennis quickly gathers up some extra washers that he hadn’t used and neatly places them in a ziploc bag before placing it all in the larger bag and zips it up. He has a little bit of time, there wasn’t much to do at the moment and most students were in class right now so the field was quiet besides the quiet buzz of distant cicadas in the treeline.   
　　  
　　Skipping class wasn’t uncommon for Casey. It wasn’t like it was going to kill her to miss a day or two of economics. She headed outside unnoticed and made her way across the sidewalk to cross the football field and head towards her usual hiding spot. It wasn’t really a hiding spot, a lot of students usually would sit behind the bleachers and eat lunch or hang out, but during class hours there was usually no one there. Casey had hidden behind there and watched the clouds for hours many times before to evade tedious classwork and obnoxious teachers. Half-dead grass killed by the summer sun crunches quietly under Casey’s sneakers until she finally hits concrete. When she turns the corner and falls under the shade of the metal bleachers she notices that someone’s already sitting there. She instantly recognizes Dennis and he immediately notices her presence, head turning at the quiet noises of her arrival. Casey’s a little surprised to see him back here, and he seems just as surprised to see her suddenly in front of him. There’s a moment of brief silence before Casey decides to step forward. “Hey.” She says, forced casualness in the face of a strange coincidence. Before the past two days she had only seen glimpses of Dennis heading in and out of closets, store-rooms and up and down basement stairs. But now it seemed like she was running into him every time she blinked. “Hey.” Dennis responds and he feels like it sounds weird when he says it, but then again he feels like he sounds weird when he says anything at all. “Sorry, are you working on something? I don’t want to get in your way or anything.” Casey says when she notices his work bag beside him. “No, no I just finished.” Dennis says, looking up at her from his spot on the concrete slab. “Then do you mind if I sit? Kind of trying to kill some time.” Casey steps a little closer to him as she speaks and he looks like he wants to get up and dash like some kind of scared deer. He doesn’t move. She finds it a little ironic that she’s the one offering to sit and wait with him now and wonders if she’s overstepping some kind of boundary. “Go ahead.” He answers with a small nod and Casey sets her bag down before sitting down beside him on the concrete, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed.   
　　  
　　Dennis quickly pulls his wrist up to look at his watch then glances over at her. “Your class lets out a little early.” He notes in his deep voice. Casey’s mouth compresses and she fidgets with a loose string on the sleeve of her hoodie. “Not exactly... I kind of stepped out for a little bit.” She says, turning to him and propping her head up on her fist, elbow resting on her knee. Dennis doesn’t look at her but arches a brow and Casey thinks she almost sees a faint smile. “I completely understand.” He nods quietly before taking off his glasses and rubbing them on what looks like a small microfiber cloth. “I usually like to sit out here, it’s nice. You can see some pretty cool clouds on a day like today.” She said, shifting her position and placing her hands in her lap as she glanced up at the sky. Fat little cumulus clouds roll lazily in lines across the pale blue of the sky, occasionally crossing over the sun. “It’s... Nice out.” Dennis agrees with her, sliding his glasses back into their original position on his face. He feels like he’s unengaging and desperately begins searching for a topic that’s not as boring as the weather. “Did you make it home alright yesterday?” He suddenly asks, turning to face her. Casey takes her gaze away from the expanse of the sky to look at him and a side of her mouth twists into a subtle smile. “Yeah, the car’s been having a lot of trouble recently but we made it home okay.” She says as she tucks the same stubborn strand of long, dark hair back behind her ear where it continuously falls from. “If your dad needs a mechanic I know someone downtown.” Dennis offers. “Oh- he’s not my dad.” Casey quickly states, smile disappearing from her face quickly. “That’s my uncle, my dad died when I was a kid.” Casey elaborates for him as briefly as she can. She’s not one to enjoy spilling her ‘tragic life story’ any chance she gets. Dennis’ eyes are wide and he looks absolutely embarrassed. “Christ- I’m sorry.” He stammers and looks away, shoulders rigid. “No, no, it’s okay. Really, everyone thinks he’s my dad.” Casey shifts, the concrete scraping slightly against her jeans. Quietly, Dennis nods and rubs the back of his neck, eyes fixated on the line where the grass met the concrete. “My father died when I was young too.” Dennis says after a moment, hand sliding down the side of his neck before falling back down to rest on his knee.   
　　  
　　Casey listens as he speaks and she feels a strong pang of sympathy for him. Sure, lots of people had lost a parent or both and Casey knew that she wasn’t alone. But any time she listened to someone else try to sympathize with her by telling her all about how their mother tragically passed away or whatever, Casey really couldn’t care less. The loss of her father had permanently damaged her and she didn’t want to worry about anyone else and their pain. She had enough of her own to be concerned about and had enough of trying to sympathize with other people, or worse, when people offered her pity. Pity just made her feel sick to her stomach. But listening to Dennis was just making her more curious about him. He was mysterious to everyone really, and she wondered if he’d ever talked with anyone else like they were talking right now. Of course he probably did and Casey knew she was probably just overthinking things as usual. It was easy to make something out of nothing when it came to connecting with other people but at this point there was a genuine desire to know more about him. She pauses as a realization settles over her, the realization that she wants to get closer to him. “I’m sorry...” She pauses, tongue swiping over her bottom lip as she chooses her words. “It’s a hard thing to go through.” Casey says and he only nods silently. “It’s good though, that your uncle was there to take you in.” He finally speaks and Casey tries not to visibly frown. “Yeah.” Is all she can manage to say as she leans back to support her weight on her hands, giving her back a break from having to slouch. “I mean... He’s okay, I guess.” She’s not sure why she tells him that. It’s true to an extent, uncle John does feed her and gives her a place to stay but none of that could ever forgive what he’s done to her in the past.  
　　  
　　When Casey reached a certain age, uncle John had stopped most of his abuse but the verbal abuse had been continuous from the day she went to live with him to now. She can recall nights spent yelling and fighting, doors slamming and beer bottles being smashed. He was especially awful when he drank, constantly promising Casey he was going to stop for good just to come home late that night from hanging out with his friends, reeking of whiskey. He was still touchy with her but Casey had always guessed after she’d gotten older and more matured he had lost his interest in her. She closes her eyes for a brief moment and Dennis watches as the wind stirs her hair quietly. He won’t pry into what she says too deeply, it could mean anything. There’s still a part of him still wonders what her home life is like, if her uncle is a good man or not. Curiosity pricks at him but he knows better than to press her about home, that would be rude to do to anyone and Dennis has always had good manners. It falls quiet between them again save for the sound of the wind and the distant noises of field crickets lazily buzzing in their grassy homes. It’s calm and Casey finds that she feels the same way she does when she’s alone when she’s with Dennis. There’s always a strange, awkward feeling of being around someone new but it’s drastically muted in this case. Though she’s not really sure why, Casey realizes that she genuinely enjoys his presence despite the fact that they just met and she despises most everyone she happens to meet. It’s weird and scary but she’s beginning to find herself becoming more accepting to the idea. She blinks and chews on her lower lip as she lets her mind roam. Casey knows that this probably won’t be a friendship, he’s a full grown man and has a life of his own; they just keep happening to run into each other and he’s polite enough to carry on a conversation with her. She feels foolish for believing there’s a small friendship beginning between them, and in a week’s time she’ll have moved on to something else in her life. This is just a small blip in the timeline of another year that she’ll have forgotten all about soon and that’s the depressing truth no matter how bad she wants things to be different. Interactions with someone over the span of 48 hours don’t exactly add up to be very much more than that in most circumstances and she criticizes herself for not being more realistic.   
　　  
　　She suddenly feels uncomfortable, fueled by anxiety and rises to her feet. It’s towards herself and not towards Dennis, but it’s heavy on her and she feels the need to just leave. She won’t speak to him again except for an occasional hello and that’ll be the end of things, just like that. Casey feels like she’s made an idiot out of herself through all of this and she’s definitely put too much thought into someone she’s just met. It’s better to nip things in the bud before they become a bigger problem. “I gotta head back inside, got some stuff to work on.” She says, Dennis looking up at her. “Thanks for letting me sit with you though.” Casey picks up her bag and smiles thin and forcefully. Dennis nods quickly. “I’ll see you around.” He says and Casey turns to walk away. She almost hopes she doesn’t see him soon, she hopes it’s not until he’s long forgotten all about her existence and she’s forgotten about his and she can look back and laugh at how she embarrassed herself that one time by becoming sort-of friends with the maintenance man. Casey doesn’t understand what she’s feeling and desperately tries to push it from her mind as she walks back across the field to go back into class. Flooding her head with economics and other boring bullshit to distract herself from her own social blunders is the best option right now, even if she might come off as a little rude for suddenly getting up and leaving. Dennis remains seated for what feels like a fortnight after she leaves and it’s not the sun that’s making him sweat now. Had he said something wrong? Or was she just trying to be nice and really had never wanted to sit and talk to him in the first place? A million questions run through his mind like a pack of dogs and Dennis feels guilty. Rising slowly, Dennis grabs his tools and starts making his way back to the school building. The whole situation was definitely his own fault and if anyone else had known about it there probably would have been some major trouble that would have come from it. It’s in his own best interest to just leave things alone and forget about it all, despite his concern. He can’t even really place why he’s concerned in the first place; it was unnatural. Dennis tries to blame it on the fact that he has a natural care for the well-being of students but another part of him knows that that’s definitely not true. Would he be this worried about any other student? He can’t place why he feels this way and despises it but he feels a reflection of himself inside of Casey. A defined echo that rippled from her through him and drew him to her like moths to a flame. He tries to clear his mind and turn his attention to making his way to the office. Hopefully there would be another work order there waiting for him.   
　　  
　　Hours pass and when Casey’s final class lets out the sky has turned into a thick sea of heavy grey, dark spots beginning to appear on the sidewalk where fat spots of rain make contact with it. Casey is more calm than she was before and had actually forced herself to participate in class much to everyone’s surprise, anything to take her mind off of the events of earlier and her own thoughts. She pulls out her phone to call her uncle, leaning against the window by the glass double-doors as she listens to the drone of the dial tone. He doesn’t pick up the phone until after the second attempt and she can hear that he’s pissed off. “Hey, Casey. I can’t get this damn truck to start.” His voice is a little difficult to hear in the commotion of the hallway but the words make clear sense. “Can you get one of your friends to give you a ride home?” uncle John asks her and Casey feels dread wash over her like a tidal wave. “Yeah. I’ll figure something out, no worries.” She finally manages to say before saying goodbye and ending the call. Who was she supposed to ask? She’d hung out with Claire and her friend Marcia before but they hadn’t spoken since early summer and it’d be weird to suddenly go begging her for a ride. Sighing with frustration, Casey leans against the wall and momentarily pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to think of anyone she could ask. There were only so many options she had and internally she was regretting not at least trying to make better friends with people even if it were for her own gain at this split second. A thought crosses her mind and she peers out through the glass to see just exactly how hard the rain is coming down. She _could_ walk home. It wasn’t too close but it also wasn’t on the other side of town either. Of course she wasn’t dumb enough to go out in the rain and get hit by a car trying to slosh her way home and came to the conclusion that she would wait until the rain was done.   
　　  
　　She takes a seat right where she had been standing so she can keep an eye on the downpour, putting in a headphone in one of her ears and turning her music on. She hasn’t seen Dennis hesitantly peering at her from the doorway of the supply closet. He can’t hear what she’s saying on the phone, but he’s sure its her uncle. For a second he recalls her mentioning the problems with her uncle’s car and wonders if there’s been an issue with it. He’s not sure if he should approach her or not after she had left abruptly earlier that afternoon but there’s a tug of concern that wants to pull him forward to speak to her. He’s still not adjusted to his strange feelings for her and he partially wants to stay back and leave her be. If there was a problem she would probably have someone else to give her a ride home, right? Dennis decides to wait. He had things he had to do before he left anyways and if she were still there when he got done he would approach her. He clicked the light switch off in the closet and headed down the hallway, palms slightly clammy from anxiety. Why did he even feel like it was his responsibility in the first place? He’s asked kids to leave when it was time to lock up countless of times before without a care in the world if they had some way or another to get home, so why all of a sudden was he this concerned over someone he’d just met days ago?  
　　  
　　Dennis goes about his duties and finishes everything that needs to be done in order for him to leave before he finally decides to check on her. The rain still is pouring down in sheets and he takes a moment to admire the gentle features of her profile as she gazes out the window at the downpour. The straight slope of her nose, dark eyelashes that flit occasionally when she blinks. There’s a tightening in his chest and he steps forward hesitantly, cautiously. Casey looks up when she notices someone in her peripheral vision, standing close. She her gaze travels up the long legs of Dennis before meeting his eye. “Car troubles?” Dennis asks, trying not to sound as nervous as he was. Casey sighs and nods, pulling the earphone out of her ear. “Yeah. I’m just waiting for the rain to stop so I can walk home.” Casey says casually and Dennis’ breath hitches in his chest silently. “Nonsense.” He says curtly and without really much thought. She’s staring up at him with a brow arched and he knows now he’s too deep into it to go back, so he might as well go with it now. “I’ll... Give you a ride home, if you’ll let me.” Dennis says in his usual quiet, unwavering tone. Casey considers for a half-second before standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I’d really like that.” She answers, a small smile settling across her soft features. Dennis hopes he hasn’t turned red but his face does feel hot. “If you’ll wait here I’ll pull the car around.” He says. She nods briskly and leans up against the wall. “Trust me, I won’t go anywhere.” Casey jokes. “Good.” Dennis answers before turning to walk out of the double doors. There’s an overhang that shields him from the rain for now as his eyes scan the parking lot. He doesn’t like getting wet but he hates the idea of Casey walking home by herself in the dark even more.  
　　  
　　Casey watches him dart across the parking lot and disappear from her site behind the other staff members vehicles. There’s some sort of giddy excitement mixed with anxiety that stirs in her stomach and she tries to swallow it. She really wasn’t doing a good job with the whole trying not to talk to him again thing but this was better than walking home in the rain. Anyone would have agreed to it, she’s sure. Casey wonders if he usually helps everyone out like this or if it’s she’s one of the select few to ever interact this much with Dennis. She briefly entertains the thought but is soon cut off when she spies the headlights of a small grey sedan parked parallel to the curb of the school’s sidewalk. Casey doesn’t want to keep him waiting and quickly steps outside, briefly pelted by rain before she’s safe inside the car. She wasn’t sure what she expected but isn’t surprised by the lack of trash in Dennis’ car. Glancing over at him, Casey pulls her seatbelt across her chest and locks it. “Thanks... You know you didn’t have to do that for me.” She says. The places where his shirt is soaked are a darker grey and there’s faint droplets of rain clinging to his glasses, which he’s cleaning off before he starts driving. “I wanted to.” He says, his cold expression is more soft than usual and he really seems like he genuinely hasn’t minded any of it. Casey’s a wild mixture of confusion, excitement and anxiety all wrapped into one and she’s not exactly sure what to do. She watches the windshield wipers work at full speed to clear the constant barrage of rain from the pane of glass as they pull off onto the main road. “You’re gonna have to tell me where to go.” Dennis says. “Just keep going straight for now, I’ll tell you what intersection to turn at.” She assures him and brushes away a wet strand of hair that was stuck to her forehead. His quiet concentration is focused on the road, driving carefully through the rain. Dennis briefly glances over at her and notices that though she isn’t drenched, she’s still a little bit wet. “Are you cold? I can turn on the heat for you.” He asks but still turns the heat on a low setting for her regardless. “Yeah- thanks.” She answers, the gentle heat blowing from the air vents is welcome on her rain-spotted face.  
　　  
　　The majority of the ride is spent in silence, save for Casey’s few instructions on where to turn, which road to keep an eye out for. It’s not a long drive from the school and eventually Casey tells him to slow down until they reach her house. It’s small and simple, settled at the top of a gravel driveway where her uncle’s truck sits, asleep. There’s an empty flowerbed filled with not much more than mulch and weeds, but it looks sort of drowned under the puddles accumulated from the rain. Dennis puts the car in park and pulls up the emergency break before unlocking the door for her, expecting her to bolt out into the rain and into the safety of her home as soon as she reached it. But she doesn’t. She unbuckles her seat belt, turns to face him and there’s a ghost of a smile that’s washed across her features. “Thanks Dennis. Seriously, I would have been up there for another three hours if it weren’t for you.” Casey’s nervous but there’s a strong desire to express her gratitude for him. Dennis shakes his head. “I wasn’t about to let you walk home.” He pauses for a moment before his brows knit together in thought. “Your uncle isn’t going to be upset about some strange man driving you home is he?” Dennis asks, realization that her uncle might be pissed about her accepting rides from a 36 year old man who’d she just met two days prior. Casey exhales a huff of laughter through her nose and she looks out the windshield. “No. He told me to try and see if a friend would give me a ride home, so I guess that’s kind of what I did.” Casey immediately regrets what she says and decides she’ll drown herself in the nearest puddle as soon as Dennis drives away. He stiffens a little at what she says and looks genuinely confused but not displeased. He looks like he wants to say something but either chooses not to say it or can’t find the words. She can’t tell. “I have to go inside, but really Dennis. Thanks.” She decides to cut it short and thanks him again before pulling the handle to the door and opening it, bidding him goodnight before quickly dashing up the sidewalk to her front door.  
　　  
　　Dennis listens as his engine idles, eyes locked onto Casey as she makes her way through the rain and up the two wooden steps that lead to her porch. He doesn’t move again until he watches her disappear into the dark of the house and he realizes just how tense he had been. So she hadn’t minded his company all along? Or was this just more politeness? The faint smell of whatever soap or laundry detergent she uses is still fresh in the car and he savors the smell of her. Whether or not she was just being nice or if she genuinely had recognized a bond quickly being established between them, the memory of her words made his heart pound in his chest like it was trying to escape him. His face feels hot and his palms are damp, from rain or whatever this feeling was he couldn’t tell. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose and casts a single glance back towards her house before steadying himself and pulling onto the road. The gentle hiss of the rain on his windshield and the hum of the tires over the asphalt are easily drowned out by the thrumming in his chest and the heat in his face.


	4. Chapter 4

　　The rain has slowed down to a drizzle by the time Dennis makes it home and the sound it makes is no more than a gentle hiss over the roof of his apartment. The faucet is running steadily while he waits for the water to heat up to begin scrubbing dishes from earlier in the evening. Thoughts of Casey are bombarding him and he lets his mind drift back to the memory of her sitting in the passenger seat beside him, a few strands of her dark hair wet and stuck to her forehead, the sharp almost mischievous glint in her eye when she had implied their friendship. Dennis suddenly feels hot again and forces his attention back on the plate, sponging a generous amount of dish soap onto it. He wonders what she did after she went inside, what she was doing right now or what she was thinking. It’s a barrage of thoughts and he can see her clearly stepping into the house, saying hello to her uncle and heading into her room to undress from her wet clothes- He stops the thought there and leans against the counter. Dennis knows he shouldn’t be thinking about any of these things or even thinking about her at all as much as he does and his hands are trembling slightly when he goes to turn the water off. With the dishes dried and put away, Dennis makes his way into his room and sits at the edge of his bed. It’s not even that late but he feels like he needs to lay down and he rubs the bridge of his nose with a tired hand. It felt like he was being pulled in two different directions by opposing, powerful forces. Dennis has always considered himself a practical person by all means but this is the first time he’s ever felt like this about anyone before and it was more than overwhelming.   
　　  
　　Of course there had been a time or two when someone had been interested and had made attempts to start something with him but it had never gone anywhere. Dennis had never wanted it to go anywhere. People didn’t terrify him but he detested the idea of suddenly having to share his life with someone. Most people tended to avoid him once they figured out how high his emotional barriers were and it never went further than that. He really hated people prying into his business or personal life and nothing made him seethe more than when someone pretended they were interested in him just because they were bored or lonely. Being alone had bothered him when he was a boy but the older he got he found that he preferred it that way. It was almost like he’d been alone for such a long time that he wasn’t sure how to have people in his life now. It was a new skill that he would have to master. His social life is non-existent but he feels like he would be more upset if he actually had one that he needed to constantly keep up with. Yet, here was this girl suddenly materializing in his sacred quiet world and there was nothing he could do about it. Dennis wants her to stay, he wants to get even closer to her and that absolutely terrifies him. These kinds of feelings were completely foreign to him and Dennis finds himself not knowing how to accept them. This wasn’t a proper way to feel about someone, especially a student and the practical side of himself prods him to constantly remind him of this. He rubs the palms of his calloused hands together before standing and making his way into the bathroom where he switches the shower on. The water is hot, almost scalding against his bare skin when he steps in and pulls the curtain shut behind him. Dennis rests his forehead against the spotless tile of the shower wall and watches the water fall in rivulets down from his neck and shoulders and down his stomach. Steam billows around him as the water heats the cold ceramic of the shower floor and he closes his eyes, trying to think of anything that’s not Casey.   
　　  
　　“Who dropped you off?” Her uncle’s voice echos from the den as she steps into the dim entryway of the house, shutting the door behind her. “Someone from school.” Casey calls back after she drops her bag with a thud on the old wood floor before trying to head towards her room. “I didn’t recognize that car out there.” John sounds accusing and Casey is instantly annoyed and doesn’t answer, just closes the door to her room behind her quietly. She sits down at her desk chair to wrestle her shoes off and there’s footsteps that thump heavily before her door opens. “Did you hear me?” John is standing in the doorway, tall and threatening and Casey looks up at him. “Yeah, I did.” She says flatly and her uncle rests a forearm on the trim of the doorway, clearly pissed off at her. “Drop the attitude Casey, I’m fuckin’ serious. I want you to answer me when I’m talking to you, do you understand?” His voice has always been threatening but more so now that he’s mad and Casey turns her attention back down to loosening her shoelaces. Casey lets the sneaker fall to the floor with a clatter before sitting back and nods. “Why? It’s not like that conversation was even going anywhere. I don’t even know why you would give a shit whose car that is.” She huffs angrily and John shifts his weight impatiently. “Seriously Casey it’s just a matter of respecting your uncle. I do a lot of shit for you.” He folds His arms and pushes the door further open. “So you’re gonna answer me when I talk to you or ask you something, got it?” He’s a little louder now but Casey doesn’t feel the urge to shrink back into her chair. “Okay.” She spits the word out like it was rotten. “That's _Yes sir._ I don’t wanna hear any of that ‘okay’ bullshit. Seriously Casey have some damn respect.” He shakes his head angrily and turns, closing her door with force as he walks away. She waits to hear his footsteps stalk down the hallway before finally undressing and slipping into some shorts and an old shirt she’s had since middle school. The encounter with uncle John has left her agitated and she lays down on her back, gazing up at the dusty vent in her ceiling. It was only a tiny spat but this sort of thing was common in the house and it had worn Casey down over the years. All it took was saying one wrong thing and John would get pissed and fly off the handle, his temper on a deadly hair-trigger. There had been holes put in doors before, broken bottles, a broken window once or twice and he’d damaged the door hinges trying to pry her door open when she’d locked it to keep him out more times than she could remember. She knows her life wasn’t always like this but the days of her and her father are long lost, dusty memories that become more and more out of focus with each passing year.  
　　  
　　She remembers certain things about her dad, how he always smelled like cedar wood and the big brown boots he would wear to work. There’s still photos of him for the times where she forgets what his face exactly looked like but she doesn’t like to think about those times. Casey knows if she looks back at the way things used to be it’ll just make the present moment that much more painful. Recognizing what you’ve lost is beyond excruciating and sometimes it’s easier to let yourself forget. Casey pushes the fight from her mind and sighs as she rolls over onto her belly, checking her phone to look at the time. She recalls her trip home as the sound of the rain dripping outside of her window catches her attention and she wonders how long she would have been stuck at the school if Dennis hadn’t given her a ride. Judging by how clean his car was there was no way the guy had kids, or if he did they were definitely older. But he was only like 30-something, right? Casey furrows her brow at the thought and questions why she’s thinking about this. Simple curiosity and no more than that she decides, running a hand through her still faintly damp hair. Even if he didn’t have kids he was probably married. She wondered what kind of person would mesh well enough with Dennis for him to let them get that close. If he wasn’t married or didn’t have any kids, she was curious about what he did in his spare time. Clean? He looked fairly muscular and for a second she wonders if he works out any. She quickly swings her legs over the side of her bed and grabs her laptop from off of the desk before going back and settling down, adjusting some pillows. It's the kind of perfect weather to turn off all of the lights and watch something mind-numbing and only vaguely funny on Netflix for a few hours until she passes out and forgets all about Dennis and his ‘secretive’ life.   
　　  
　　Morning comes early and Casey readies herself to go through the day, teeth brushed and hair slightly managed. The weather’s cleared up a little bit overnight and even though it’s still overcast the rain seems to have stopped. The truck still wont start even when her uncle makes several attempts to get it running and she decides to walk to school instead. School is about a ten minute drive from her house but it obviously takes her a little longer to get there on foot, having to carefully traverse sidewalks and traffic crossings. She’s not concerned in the least bit about being late and can’t ever remember a time where she has been. When she was a kid, uncle John was decent enough at getting her to school on time for the most part but as she got older he stopped caring as much. She could recall being in the 4th grade and being chewed out by teachers constantly for being late, like it was somehow in her control that her uncle was hungover and spent the whole night drinking. She’s been in plenty of trouble for it the last few years but she knows better than to rush her uncle in doing anything. Casey had quickly learned that some consequences are easier to deal with than others. Puddles reflect the cloudy sky before shattering into a rounded display of ripples as Casey steps through them, careful not to splash water all up her legs. Casey enjoys walking and has spent plenty of free time walking through the expanse of her neighborhood. It was nice to be alone and to have a clear time to just not think about much except the sidewalk and its many cracks. There’s a distant peal of thunder that rolls quietly and Casey silently thanks whatever powers that may be that she’s getting closer to the school.   
　　  
　　The rain starts again and continues for the majority of the day. Casey’s attention is locked onto one of the tall windows in her history classroom where the shades had been hiked up, watching the rain spill itself on the ground outside. Her attention flits back to Dennis and she decides that as soon as she can she’ll try to find him today. She wants to thank him again for the ride mostly but there is a small desire just to see him again. There’s not many people that Casey lends her trust to, especially with men or boys. She knew good and well what they could do and what lengths people could and would go through to take advantage of someone. There was a natural caution that she held towards Dennis, one that she held towards everyone, an instinct that’s been evolving inside of her since childhood. In Dennis’ case, it felt different somehow. The feeling of mistrust his muted towards him and she welcomes his company. Dennis is quiet, polite and mild-mannered from what she’s seen of him. He’s a little uptight of course but it seems to just be a part of who he is and it doesn’t cause any problems between the two of them even if it bothers other people. She realizes that she’s put a tremendous amount of trust on a man that she just met a few days ago and had previously no kind of relationship with beforehand and it’s a very new, foreign feeling. She knows it's stupid to think that someone's different just because you want an excuse to get to know them better, but he _is_ different and she can’t quite place all the little details despite noticing that they're there. Dennis isn’t pushy like boys in her class, pretending to genuinely be interested in you on a personal level just so they have an easier chance at getting nudes. He isn’t forceful or hot-tempered like uncle John who uses his physical advantages to get what he wants when he wants it. No, Dennis is different and she likes it. Besides, if he had wanted to do anything to Casey he’d had more than multiple opportunities to. It’s not like he was going to kidnap her and lock her in his basement or something. She smirks a little at the idea of it, bringing herself back to reality. Casey's glad her uncle was late, she’s glad the truck is a piece of shit. Overall, she’s happy that she met Dennis.   
　　  
　　Class lets out and Casey takes to the hallway. It’s not long before she sees Dennis’ shoulder peeking out of the dimly lit supply closet and she quickly approaches him. He turns to exit the closet just as she reaches him and he looks surprised to see her there. “Hey.” She greets him as she leans against the side of the doorway. Dennis nods, his expression softening a little. “Hi.” Is his simple reply as he clicks the light off, closing the door. Casey’s noticed that he’s quiet and doesn’t exactly have a lot to say, but she really doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t expect him to be talkative but that doesn’t mean she can’t talk with him. “I wanted to say thanks for the ride.” Casey says and she swears Dennis smiles ever so slightly. “You did. Twice in fact, I think.” Dennis replies and Casey nods, compressing her lips. “Yeah well, I guess you get to hear it a third time. I’m just really thankful I didn’t have to walk home in all this.” She says. Casey looks down and notices an air filter in his hand, bag of tools in the other. “Am I keeping you from working? I can piss off if you want.” Casey asks, furrowing her brow. He shakes his head before motioning to her with one of his occupied hands. “No. Walk with me.” He says and Casey does. “How’s the truck?” Dennis asks, casting a glance to her as she walks beside him, trying to keep a decent pace for her. “Still dead, I had to walk up here this morning.” Casey rolls her eyes as she speaks. “My uncle doesn’t like to spend a lot of money and doesn’t want to let it go even though it’s like a million years old.” She continues, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That’s a shame.” Dennis says and they round a corner down one of the quieter halls in the school building. There’s a long air conditioner vent set in the wall and he sets everything down to begin his work. “If... um, You’re fine with it, I could drive you home again today.” He pauses, looking over at her as he crouches down to begin his work.   
　　  
　　Casey cocks her head slightly and arches a brow. “You sure? I don’t want you to have to worry about dropping me off and stuff.” She’s a little surprised that he offered to be honest but she’s also not disappointed in the least bit. Dennis nods and takes a moment to undo his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows before he begins to unscrew the panel that covers the vent. “It’s not that big of a deal. My apartment is on the same side of town.” Dennis places the screws on the ground where he can easily find them again, lowering the panel off of the wall. Casey’s reminded of her thoughts on if he lives alone or not, her gaze lingering on his muscular forearms for a split second before snapping back onto the wall in front of them. “Convenient.” She says, nodding and sitting down on the floor while he works. Dennis removes the old air filter from the unit and Casey watches him almost cringe as the dust from it touches his bare skin before he delicately places it where it leans against the wall. “Well, I just don’t want you to be late getting back home to anyone.” She says, drumming her fingers silently on the tiled floor. Dennis huffs quietly and it takes her a moment to register that he’s laughed, a smile pulling gently at one of the the corners of his mouth. “No one to go home to.” He says as he begins to install the new, clean filter. “Really? That’s a little bit surprising.” She regrets it as soon as it leaves her mouth but he doesn’t seem to pick up on the subtleties of what she said, or if he did he didn’t say anything. “I prefer it, keeps things simple.” Dennis elaborates before he begins to re-attach the panel that was covering the unit back onto the wall.  
　　  
　　Casey walks with him to dispose of the old air filter. “That’s really grossing you out, huh?” She asks after he gingerly tosses it into a trash bin in the same supply closet they were at earlier. It’s raining, so he’ll have to wait before he can take it all out to the dumpster. Dennis nods, grabbing a bottle of hand sanitizer from off one of the shelves and pumping a liberal amount into his palms before rubbing them together. “I can't stand filth.” He answers, turning his gaze to Casey who once more leans against the frame of the door. “I mean yeah, I can definitely tell” She notes, nodding her head briefly and wonders for a moment if he has some form of OCD. She had overheard kids mention it before but then again people would use OCD to describe any sort of uptight qualities in a person despite not knowing how the actual disorder works. Dennis rolls the sleeves of his uniform shirt back down before buttoning the cuffs now that he’s done with the dusty filter and turns to face Casey once again. “You don’t have another class to get to?” The question would sound accusing coming from anyone else but from Dennis it only sounds curious. Casey shakes her head hesitantly before shrugging. “Yeah... Well, it’s gym. I’m not really missing out on much.” Casey fidgets with the hem of her flannel shirt as she speaks. She always hated gym and putting on gym shorts meant exposing her legs which meant everyone was free to look at her and her scars. “I wasn’t very good at gym when I was in school.” Dennis steps out of the closet and closes it behind him before leaning against the door. “I was kind of puny, honestly.” He has a subtle amused look on his face as he reflects. Casey cant help but give a pelt of laughter at the thought. “What? No way. I seriously have a hard time imagining that.” Dennis nods and adjusts his glasses. “Didn’t eat enough as a kid, to be honest.” He shrugs slightly and Casey notices that he seems a little more relaxed around her today.  
　　  
　　“I can understand that. My uncle’s a shit cook so most of the time he would just feed me like... Taco Bell or really old fish sticks that had been in the freezer for a century and a half.” She pulls a faint face at the memory. “I tried learning how to cook but I’m really awful at it.” Casey watches him shift his weight and fold his arms against his chest. “I learned how to cook when I was out of high school. Became a valuable skill.” Dennis says, his gaze falling down to the floor at his feet. “Really? I’ve always thought it would be cool to know how to cook neat stuff and not have to live off of instant noodles and hot pockets.” Casey feels like if she were having this conversation with anyone else she’d be bored out of her mind but it’s engaging when it’s with Dennis. For a second she imagines him over a stove, skillet in hand and it’s a charming image. “You can do a lot with a package of rice.” Dennis shifts again. He can recall when his mother would cook and he would do the dishes for her as a boy. It took him time before he could perfect everything and keep everything to her standards and to this day he still found himself trying to uphold them whenever he cleaned. He realizes his expression must have shifted into something a little more serious than usual when he catches Casey peering at him inquisitively and he presses his lips together, running a hand across the nape of his neck. “I’d probably just find some way to burn it.” She jokes, eliciting one of his rare half-smiles. “I guess I’ll just have to teach you a few tricks.” Dennis retorts and Casey feels her face grow hot.   
　　  
　　She hopes she hasn’t turned red and despises herself momentarily. Boys have told her all sorts of suggestive things before and there wasn’t much she hadn’t heard but here she was blushing like a preteen at something he had said about _rice_. She quickly bends over and brushes some lint that's stuck to her knee, hoping he hadn’t noticed any pink in her face. “Yeah, uh, I guess so.” She says, straightening her back as she speaks. She quickly checks her phone for the time and Casey notes once again that time seems to always pass by quickly when she’s talking to Dennis. She guesses it’s because he’s actually enjoyable to be around. Casey never thought that there would be a day where she’d rather sit and talk with someone instead of finding a nice quiet corner to hide in and listen to music. Since they’ve been standing there she’s noticed a few students passing them by and giving them strange glances. Casey can’t blame them, it probably is a strange sight. Both she and Dennis were viewed as strange and if you added that onto a student casually hanging out with the maintenance man it definitely was an odd thing to bear witness to. He doesn’t seem to be as tense anymore around her and she’s picked up on it. The differences are very slight but are still there and she notes the way his shoulders are still straight but more eased and relaxed. His face doesn’t seem to be expressive in his emotions but she sees a change in the sternness it usually holds and it fills her with a sense of pride that he feels more relaxed around her. Casey feels more relaxed too, like she’s let her restraint slip just a little bit so she can push forward to connect and grow closer to him. Forming relationships with people had never been Casey’s strong point and at this point she’s beginning to feel a little confidence in herself.  
　　  
　　Dennis quickly gives a glance down at his watch and frowns before looking back to Casey. “I have a couple more jobs I need to get finished with.” He says, wrapping up their conversation. “Damn, just when I was learning your secrets to rice cooking.” Casey smirks and raises her brows. “I’ll let you get to it then.” She says, taking a few steps away. “We can meet up at the front, whenever you’re ready to go home.” Dennis reminds her of his offer and she nods before starting down the hall. “Gotcha.” She says casually with a brief wave over her shoulder. There’s definitely no going to gym unless if she just wanted to sit around and watch other people run around and get snapped at by another teacher, so she opts to sit in the library again. Dennis is watching her as she walks down the hall gaze still remaining when she vanishes from sight around the corner down another hallway. His heart is still thudding in his chest and he can’t tell if he’s nervous, excited or both. Dennis hates conversations and avoids them with anyone at all costs but he had managed to talk to Casey today. They’d spent time together, joked and he felt like he’d gotten a little bit closer to her. He hoped, at least. Dennis rubs the top of his shaven head, frowning softly as he determined that it was both good and bad. He wanted to get closer to her but at the same time he was also painfully aware that it was inappropriate. It felt like it was more than just a feeling of friendship or finding someone similar to yourself and it was all slowly washing over him. He was attracted to her. Dennis sighs and lets his hand fall back to where his arms were originally folded, guilt and uneasiness beginning to mix with the excitement to create a sick feeling in his stomach.   
　　  
　　He’d felt attracted to people before but it had never been like this before, and not in the last ten years either. Once he barred himself away to protect himself from others, attraction was lost to him and he was perfectly content with that. Yet, here was Casey. Just a senior in high school and he found himself filled with desire towards her. Dennis longs to touch her, just to ghost his hand through her long dark hair. She looks soft regardless of her steely brown eyes and constant rebellious frown and it elicits a sharp feeling in Dennis. He feels a tremble course through his shoulders and arms as he thinks about her and he sucks in a deep breath, chest rising then falling. They’re alike in many ways, Dennis thinks as he begins to make his way to the next thing that needed his attention. She’s just as cautious and reserved as he is, just as avoidant. He knows why he is the way he is, Dennis has had to evolve over time and his traits have manifested in him to protect himself from everything and everyone who will ever try to hurt him. Dennis had no choice but to learn or he would have succumbed to worse feelings. Certainly life wasn’t misery-free and his past was always one step behind him, the smallest things would remind him of his mother and bring him right back to it the instant he would forget about it. He wonders if Casey is the same as him in more ways than one. The thought twists in his chest like a knife and he hopes that their personalities are as deep as the similarities run. He wouldn’t want to be able to relate to her in that sense and the thought of it alone makes him angry. He pauses for a moment, work shoes scuffing against the tile as he realizes that he feels protective of Casey. For the first time in his life, he feels the urge to keep someone other than himself safe and it’s a foreign, strange feeling that washes across him. Dennis takes another deep breath and continues his route to the next job. There’s always something to be fixed.  
　　  
　　Casey manages to dodge gym and rot through a few more classes before the final bell of the day chimes. She’s the first one out of her seat, sliding her bag off of the table and onto her shoulder as she opened the door and walked out of the classroom. It’s a little bit crowded and she knows Dennis will have to finish a few things before they can leave but she knows that it’s well worth the wait. The main entrance is busy with everyone coming and going but Casey waits in the corner across from the door regardless, a little anxious and excited. Outside she can see that the rain has slowed to a stop at some point in the day, the pavement outside slick and stained black and shiny by the rain. It’s going to be a little while but she’s patient, scrolling through her phone lazily as she waits for him. It’s not much longer before the school gets a little bit more empty and it becomes much quieter. It’s Friday, the weekend having people rushing to get home or to hang out with friends. Casey’s never in a hurry. A little while passes and she looks up when she hears someone approaching, pleased to see Dennis. “Sorry if I kept you waiting long.” Dennis apologizes but Casey shakes her head. “Nah, it’s all fine.” She assures him and pushes herself away from her spot against the wall. “Ready?” She asks and he nods, getting the door for her before following behind Casey. The clouds are already breaking up now in the late afternoon and the breeze carries a light chill with it now, autumn beginning to settle into the air. Casey’s shoes squeak against the wet asphalt as they make their way to Dennis’ car, his usual quick strides are once again slowed enough for her to keep up with him.   
　　  
　　He’s quiet, focusing intently on the road as he drives her home. Dennis still vaguely remembers the way but still needs a few cues from Casey who sits next to him in the passenger seat so close to him. Dennis drops her off and begins the drive back to his apartment, his whole body burning with the same strange feeling of affection Casey rouses in him and he struggles to stay focused on the road in front of him. It’s not until long after he’s been home that he returns to his car parked in a spot at his apartment complex to retrieve his work coat that he notices something left in the passengers seat. He opens the door, furrowing his brow as he picks it up to investigate it. Dennis realizes it’s Casey’s phone that must have slipped out of her pocket or fallen out of her bag. A slight panic rises in him as he realizes that somehow he has to get it back to her. He could just bring it to her at school but it was a Friday night and neither of them would be seeing each other again until Monday at the soonest. Dennis rubs his hand across the back of his neck and quickly decides that he'll run by her house and give it to her, quick and easy. Should he leave it in the mailbox? No, she probably wouldn’t think to look in there and it would be better to give it to her in person regardless. He quickly runs back to lock his door before making his way back to his vehicle and drives back to her house. It’s been several hours now since he’d dropped her off and it was dark now, the clouds having spread out enough to reveal a spattering of stars and dim moonlight which is drowned out by the orange sodium lights on the roadway.  
　　  
　　Casey’s sitting on the floor of her room, laptop in front of her as she lazily browses through Facebook. She’s not sure why she even still has an account, none of the people she’s added on there mean anything to her and she’d rather not know what they’re up to anyway. She hadn’t realized that she’d left her phone until about an hour after getting home and realized she had no way of getting in touch with Dennis to let him know it was in his car still. For a second, she wonders if Dennis has a profile on the website but the thought is interrupted by her uncle appearing in her doorway. “Hey kid, I’m stepping out for a second.” John says, keys in his massive hand. Casey nods, knowing that ‘stepping out’ meant running to get more beer even though he was probably too drunk to drive already. “Okay.” She doesn’t look up from the screen when she notices him disappear from her peripheral and it’s not long after that before she hears the door slam and the engine of the truck stuttering before coming to life. Casey listens for a moment, guessing that he had managed to get it fixed and a little bit of disappointment pricks her at the thought of now having to return home with her uncle every afternoon. A little bit of time passes when there’s a knock at the door. Casey jumps at the sound before closing her computer and pulling herself off of the floor, cautiously sneaking to the door. She peeks through the curtains in the den to see who’s standing there and her chest lurches when she see’s that it’s Dennis. There’s a moment of brief confusion but she realizes he’s probably found her phone in his car and drove back to give it to her. Floorboards creak under her feet as she goes to get the door, pulling it open on its stiff hinges with a little bit of effort. “God, sorry. I must've dropped it or something.” Casey immediately apologizes and Dennis shakes his head, handing the small device back to her. “No worries. I figured you might need it before Monday.” He doesn't look bothered by it at all. There’s a small pause and Casey suddenly moves, pulling the door open a little wider. “Wanna come in for a second?” She asks and Dennis’ eyebrows raise by a fraction before he cautiously nods. “I- um, sure.” He stammers a little and follows Casey into the entryway.  
　　  
　　It’s a small house and Dennis can tell it’s been well lived in. There’s a hole in the wall that’s been puttied over and sanded down, still awaiting a coat of paint to hide the evidence that the damage had ever been there in the first place. Dennis hates coming into others homes, knowing that their standards of clean deviate from his a great percentage of the time but there’s something nice about coming into Casey’s home, seeing the places that she lives and breathes in day in and day out. “Want some water? I’d give you a beer but my uncle’s out getting more.” Casey offers. Dennis nods. “Water is good. Besides, I don’t drink” Dennis speaks as he approaches the kitchen counter. Casey’s on the opposite side of it, standing on tip-toe to grab a small glass from the upper shelf of the cupboard. In seconds it’s filled with ice and water and Dennis takes a small sip. “Thanks.” He speaks quietly, eyes still roaming curiously over the hunting themed decor of the house. “I should be thanking _you_.” Casey runs her hands through her hair as she speaks. “My uncle would have killed me if he found out I’d lost my phone.” The thought of her uncle’s reaction is definitely unappealing to her and she’s glad that Dennis stopped by when he did. Dennis’ thoughts also start to roam towards her uncle and he feels slightly tense knowing that he’s not in the house. He’s not sure of anyone who would like their teenage daughter to be inviting in strange men who they haven't met before into their kitchen for a glass of water. He grips the glass a little tighter as he takes another draw from it. “Well we couldn’t have that.” Dennis says as he watches Casey lean on the counter with her elbows.  
　　  
　　He looks so different when he’s standing in her kitchen instead of in a school hallway, work coat buttoned all the way up as usual and Casey hopes that her uncle takes a little longer than he usually does. She knows there would only be trouble if he ever found out about this but they have time. “Your uncle uh... Really likes to hunt, doesn’t he?” He says, his gaze falling back onto her. Casey nods. “Yeah, it was sort of big in the family. I used to go hunting with him and my dad when I was little.” There’s a small ache in her chest at the memories of the long hunting trips and she can remember a time before they had gone sour, when her uncle was still a protector in her eyes. The memories are distant, but they’re still there if she sifts for them long enough. “He still hunts a ton, I’m not big on it anymore.” Casey continues. Dennis nods slightly before draining the last bit of water from his glass. “Were you a good shot at all?” He asks, the thought of Casey holding a hunting rifle hiding in a deer blind is a slightly strange but befitting image. She shrugs. “I guess. I mostly just went along for the ride most trips. My dad taught me a few things though.” Casey had remembered her father’s voice, the deep timbre of it as he reminded her to never point a gun at something she didn’t want to shoot.  
　　  
　　Time passes and Dennis soon decides that he should head out, Casey seeing him to the door. “Thanks again for dropping this off. I’ll try not to leave my shit in your car next time.” She half-smiles and Dennis nods, adjusting his glasses. “Even if you do I’ll have an excuse to come and drink your water.” His sense of humor is dry and subtle and if it came from anyone else Casey probably wouldn’t be amused by it at all but it makes her grin. “I’ll make sure I have plenty of ice for you.” She retorts. Dennis turns and goes to leave when there’s the sound of a key sliding into the lock. The doorknob twists and the door heaves open, Casey’s stomach dropping at the sight of her Uncle coming into the entryway, six pack in hand. There’s a pause, an awkward silence as John stares at Dennis who stares right back at him, a little startled by his sudden presence. Casey feels panic rise in her chest and she realizes that this was all a terrible idea to invite Dennis in when her uncle was away in the first place. She was hoping Dennis would never have to meet John in the first place but it was definitely too late now. “Oh, hey!” She tries to sound casual but her throat suddenly feels dry. “This is Dennis, he uh, gave me a ride home today. And the other day. I left my phone in his car and he was nice enough to bring it back for me.” Casey feels her arms begin to shake a little bit as she watches John stare at him. “That is mighty kind of him.” John finally speaks and Dennis definitely feels like he’s overstepped his boundaries. He shouldn't have come inside. “It wasn’t a problem.” Dennis speaks, glancing at Casey who appears a little more than tense, a stark difference than her usual defiant expression. “I have to go now, it was nice meeting you.” Dennis says to John before opening the door, giving a quick nod to Casey and her uncle before closing it behind him.

　　John sets the six-pack down on the wood floor as soon as the door is shut and he crosses his arms across his chest. His temper is already beyond nasty in the first place and alcohol certainly doesn't suppress it any. He's glaring at her now and Casey tries to swallow down the fear that's now creeping rapidly up in her throat, but her mouth's dry and no matter how much she tries there's no escaping the panic that grips her chest as John steps a single step forward.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for abuse!
> 
> sorry if it feels a little rushed.

　　The tension between her and John is so thick Casey feels like she could dip her hand into it. “Who the hell was that?” John demands and she’s is frozen with fear but remains calm as best as she can. “He works at the school.” She retorts and her uncle is shaking his head. “What the hell are you doing inviting some man into the house like that?” John’s voice is raised now and Casey takes a step back as he takes another step forward. “It’s not like that, he just came to give me back my ph-” Casey’s cut off by her uncle. “Look. I don’t even want to know what kind of shit you get up to when I’m not around but I will not have you fooling around with anyone in MY house- especially a grown ass man. Do you understand me Casey?” He’s firm, angrily pointing a finger at her. Casey’s brows knit together angrily and she clenches her jaw to keep herself from losing it. “It’s not even like that.” She’s trying hard not to let her temper slip and she turns around to stalk off. A large hand claps down on her shoulder and pulls her back around to face John. Casey quickly wrenches her shoulder free, fear spiking through her at her uncle’s touch. “Casey, I’m trying to fucking protect you. You’ve been trusted to me you know that, right??” John growls and Casey feels a sudden rush of anger. “If YOU wanted to protect me then YOU should have protected me from YOURSELF.” Casey shouts, finally letting her anger slip from her grip. There’s a flash of pain and it takes her a split second to register that she’s been slapped. Her cheek is stinging and her lip is already swelling as blood rushes to it, angry tears beginning to prick at her eyes. She refuses to cry. It was only an open-handed slap and Casey feels like she should feel lucky but a welt is already starting to form where his hand made contact with her lip. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, girl.” John growls, towering over Casey as she raises a hand to gingerly touch her face. Her brown eyes are blown wide with fear, her breath shuddering as she slowly backs away from the man in front of her. “What the _hell_ would your father think?” He shouts and she can’t take it anymore. Casey turns around and quickly walks away from her uncle, angrily slamming the door to her room behind her.  
　　  
　　She waits a few seconds, facing the door with a defiant stance, ready to attack him if he dared follow her but it stays quiet. A minute turns into three more before she finally relaxes and sits down on the edge of her bed. Once again she raises her shaking hand to touch her lip and when she pulls it back she sees that it’s split open, a streak of blood swiped across her index and middle fingers when she retracts them away. Casey gets up from her bed and walks over to her desk where she digs through a drawer. There’s a small compact mirror in there that she pulls out to further inspect the damage done. Her lip has a welt on it that’s still slowly seeping a little bit of blood and the skin on her lower cheek is red and angry. It’s not as bad as she thought it would originally be and her cheek won’t even bruise but her lip will take much longer to heal. The adrenaline has run its course through her body and brain and has long cycled through, leaving her feeling shaky and empty, arms quivering as the weight of the situation settles on her shoulders. This is not the first time that something like this has happened, but there’s no getting used to this sort of thing, ever. There’s been bigger fights and Casey’s glad that she managed to walk away with only a busted lip and not something else. The thought fills her with unease and she shuts off the light to her room, crawling onto her bed. She slowly slips under the duvet and lets herself sink into the mattress and her pillow, careful not to lay on the injured side of her face. Tears well in her eyes and the dim surroundings of her room blur, a hot mix of anger and hurt but she still will not let herself cry. She’s done enough crying for her lifetime. She knows that the lip will heal over the weekend and her uncle will be too hungover in the morning to care about it and with time she’ll move on. For now all she can do is wait for sleep to come and take her into another day.  
　　  
　　Every morning Dennis wakes up at 6:00 and makes breakfast. Even if he has the day off and can afford to sleep in, his routine is very important to him and he doesn’t like to deviate from it. He sits at the table and reads the news on his phone for about a half hour before he cleans up and takes a shower, one of the most important rituals of his day. Days off are usually not a time of relaxation for Dennis as he prefers to use his time productively whenever he has some to spare, which isn’t very often. There’s a load of laundry that he’s started in the wash and he gets to work doing his weekly scour of every floor and surface in the apartment. Last night still weighs ominously over his head and he’s frustrated that he created that situation for Casey. Even if she was the one who had invited him in, it would have been better just to tell her goodnight and go home. The smell of cleaner hangs in the bathroom as he works on scrubbing down the counter, focused intently. Dennis for a moment wonders if he made any trouble for Casey or if things had been just fine, there’s no real way for him to know. He doesn’t know what kind of man her uncle is, if he’s decent or not and it’s beginning to pick at the back of his mind. He assures himself for his own sanity that nothing’s happened and she might have heard a few choice words from her uncle but nothing more than that, or at least he hopes. The mop slides over the tiles of the bathroom floor and they become wet and shiny. Everything is still pretty clean from his last clean and probably the one before too but Dennis is vigilant when it comes to keeping things not only looking clean but sanitary as well. Eventually after a couple of hours Dennis finds things satisfactory and goes to move his clothes from the washer into the dryer. The unit had come with a small washer and dryer in the closet and it had definitely been convenient. Dennis hates laundromats with every fiber of his being. The dryer is loud and vibrates the floor when it spins to life and he turns away, walking back into the living room to take a short break from his duties.  
　　  
　　Injuries always look and feel their worst the first day and Casey’s lip is not an exception. Her uncle could have definitely done more damage but once more she’s thankful this was the extent of it. It was rare for John to become angry enough to strike her but Casey definitely preferred getting hit over other things that had been used as punishments before. She lets the shower run while she inspects her face on the mirrored pane of the medicine cabinet, her fingers gently prodding the cut. It’s swollen and the surrounding area on her lip is purple and bruised but the redness on her cheek has since faded. Casey stares at herself in the mirror for a moment, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach when she remembers that come Monday the cut will probably still be there and people will be asking her what happened. More importantly, Dennis will want to know what happened and she feels dread at the thought. Steam begins to quickly fog the mirror and Casey finally peels off her sweatpants and shirt, tossing them into the far corner of the bathroom before stumbling out of her underwear and stepping into the shower. It’s too hot at first but eventually she adjusts the temperature, leaning her head back into the stream and letting it wet her long dark hair. For a second, she considers what would happen if she actually did tell Dennis. Not just about the cut and bruise on her swollen bottom lip but _everything,_ everything since even before her father died. The thought is vaguely terrifying. She’s never told anyone ever about this before out of fear of either not being believed or severe consequences coming from it. The idea of being taken away and put into a foster home terrified her when she was little. Even though she was living with a burden, things were familiar here. She tilts her head forward again and blinks rapidly as water trails down her forehead and into her eyes. Part of her does regret not reaching out but it’s too late now. Even when she moves far far away, even long after uncle John dies and no matter how old Casey gets she’ll never feel better about any of it. Casey grabs her shampoo and begins to lather a small handful of it through her hair, water hissing around her and traveling down the drain. Even if she tried to piece herself back together again, there would always be cracks.  
　　  
　　She envied people who had gone through their lives without any sort of trauma. Casey’s seen it made out to be romantic countless movies in books, or something to turn you into a stronger person. Everyone loves someone with a broken, mysterious past; someone who life hasn’t been kind to. At least, in media that was how it worked. In real life Casey’s found it to be much more different. Some people will say that abuse makes you a kinder, softer person but Casey doesn’t feel like any of those things at all. On the outside she’s cruel and rebellious, looking for trouble and yet on the inside she’s still the same scared little girl. There’s a whirlwind of emotions constantly stirring inside of her and it ranges from anger to sorrow to fear and to complete numbness. She’s certainly not kind, though she wishes badly she could be. Casey’s watched documentaries on trauma survivors, people who had experienced things just like she had but it’s all the same inspirational feel-good horse shit. It’s meant to encourage hope in people like Casey but she doesn’t feel any of that. Hope is nice to think about and every now and then she almost wishes she had some left in her but there’s none left. She knows no one is going to help her now and even then she feels like she’s beyond re-assembling. Like a bone that’s been broken and didn’t set right and now it’s healed the wrong way, crooked and bent. She lets her conditioner soak into her hair while she soaps face wash onto her skin, careful to avoid getting it anywhere near her lip. There’s been countless times she’s acted out in the past or done something stupid just to feel a rush, to feel like she’s alive or anything other than whatever it is that she feels now but it always comes back to the same dead feeling. No matter what she does, this is the way things have been and the way they’ll always be. Casey doesn’t like pity and certainly doesn’t do any sort of self-pity but her sadness is always hot on her heels. Her fingers trace the edges of her raised scars as she lathers soap across her torso and down her thighs and calves, her lip throbbing as she bends in the shower. She lets herself enjoy the heat of the water for just a little more before finally turning off the shower and stepping out onto the cold tile floor. Water drips off of her and pools at her feet as she grabs her towel from off of the rack and rubs herself down with it, lip aching with the slightest of movements.   
　　  
　　Saturday and Sunday slowly drag by and when Casey wakes up on Monday morning she stares at her lip in the mirror. It’s not swollen anymore even though there’s still the faintest touch of a bruise surrounding the injured area. The split area of her skin has shrunken a little and the scab pulls tight on her lip. For a second she wishes that she had some concealer to put over it but in the end it might just make it look worse and she sighs, frustrated. Either way she would have to go to school today, John would only let her stay home if she were deathly ill and she doesn’t feel like pressing his temper anymore after the amount of tension between them since the fight. It doesn’t take her very long to get ready for school and she grabs her bag from the floor of her room before walking outside to the car. John is silent for the entirety of the ride and Casey is too. Not much has been said between the two of them since the fight and she wonders if he even feels remorse for it, or if he’s capable of feeling guilt or remorse in the first place. She doubts it sometimes, especially after all that’s happened. Casey chooses to focus her attention on the pavement that rushes past her window instead of her uncle in the seat beside her. They come to a stop at the curb of the school’s sidewalk and he turns to her as she goes to open the door of the truck. “I’ll be picking you up today, understand that? You don’t need to go finding anyone to take you home.” His voice is firm and Casey nods her head slowly. “Yeah. Okay.” Casey’s answer is blunt and flat but he doesn’t say anything else and he unlocks the car for her. She knows he wont let this go for a long time and she regrets thinking that letting Dennis inside was a good idea in the first place.  
　　  
　　Casey’s thankful to be out of the truck and away from her uncle but school poses a whole world of new threats and troubles to her. No one’s said anything about her lip but she’s caught a few student’s eyes. They probably just think she’s been in a fight, Casey Cooke starting shit as per usual and she wishes it was just that simple. Nothing really happens and it’s business as usual as she walks into her first class of the day, sitting at the long table and slouching down in her chair. Anxiety creeps through her as she thinks about potentially encountering Dennis at some point today and she decides to avoid him until her lip is healed and things can go back to as normal as they possibly could. It’s nice to have a friend to talk to at school and she firmly decides that this is all that is, ruining it with her shitty personal life would take that away from her. She’ll graduate soon and never see him again and in a couple of years she’ll be lucky if she remembers what he looks like. Dennis is a nice distraction from all the obstacles in her life but that’s all he is, a pleasant distraction. The thought makes her a little sad for a moment but she brushes it away knowing that this is for the best; not only for her but Dennis as well. Casey knows he has better things to do than be burdened by some teenager’s home life. The jumble of thoughts in her head crowd around her all at once and she sweeps them all away under a mental rug, turning her attention to her surroundings instead. She catches one of the girls from her class, who she recognizes as Claire, staring at her lip from another table and Casey locks eye contact for a split second before turning away, unfazed. The teacher is rambling and though Casey would rather not sit through 45 minutes of listening to facts about the Barcid Empire, the thought of skipping class and potentially running into Dennis deters her from leaving her seat. Facts about Hellenistic diplomatic customs swim into her head and gather in a puddle at the bottom of her skull and she fights the urge to close her eyes. Today was going to be a lot longer than usual.  
　　  
　　On Mondays there’s usually a short block of time where Casey has a free period and she dreads it slightly when she checks the time on the screen of her phone. Reluctantly she leaves the classroom once it’s cleared out a little more and decides to find a place to bunker down and hide in for the next half hour. She decides to head to the library and quickly sets off down the hall. After a few twists and turns she finally rounds the corner and almost runs right into Dennis who halts just before she can crash into him. Casey stares at him like a deer in the headlights, a hint of fear in her eyes as she looks up at him. Dennis looks a little startled, having almost been run over by Casey who was moving a little more than swiftly but his expression is quickly replaced with concern as he stares at her lip. “Oh, God. Sorry. Wasn’t watching where I was going.” Casey greets him, watching him as he places an index finger and thumb at the tip of his chin, investigating her injury. “Your... Lip.” He finally speaks and looks back to her eyes and Casey nods briefly. “Mmhm, yeah. Busted it, no biggie.” Casey brushes him off but Dennis still seems a little suspicious of her and she feels a little irritated when he says nothing but continues to look at her, unamused. “I wasn’t looking when I opened the truck door and hit myself in the face with it.” Casey’s good at lying and Dennis nods slowly but is still inwardly unconvinced. He’s seen and had his fair share of injuries in his life, some accidental of course but others certainly intentional and the product of his own abuse. Her story could be true and he knows this but it still doesn’t sit well with him, especially after Friday. Dennis didn’t know John, only having heard a few bits and pieces from Casey but his previous fears of Casey’s home life begin to stir in his chest and he hopes he’s just being paranoid. “Did you now?” Dennis responds and Casey can hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Yeah, it sucked ass. The swelling just now went down.” Casey knows that the best way to handle the situation is to not panic and be calm and confident in her story but the stony gaze Dennis is giving her elicits a slight feeling of fear from her. “Mmhm.” He acknowledges her, nodding slowly.  
　　  
　　“I hope... Your uncle didn’t think I was rude for leaving so quickly.” Dennis steers the conversation to her uncle, trying to gently press her for answers without exactly pressing her too hard. He notices her visibly stiffen at the suggestion of her uncle and it doesn’t sit well with him. “Nah.” Casey tries to choose her words carefully and memories of Friday evening ghost across her cheek and lip in a throb of pain. “He didn’t care, really. Too drunk I guess.” Casey is tense and Dennis can feel it radiate off of her in waves. She wants to turn and walk off, make an excuse and finally go and hide in some dusty corner of the library. There’s a silence that grows slowly between them and Casey knows that Dennis isn’t buying any of her story and it’s more than frustrating. Then again, she knows she would be suspicious too if anyone else had come to school with the same sort of injury and would have wondered if it were from a more emotionally damaging altercation. After years of abuse, Casey had found herself looking deeply into little things that others maybe wouldn’t look at. It’s easier to notice and pick up on the little hints and signs of abuse when you’ve experienced it firsthand; an attempt to hide a bruise with makeup that could have been from softball practice or a fist; the subtle emotional changes that occur in people when something traumatizing happens to them. Maybe she looks too deeply into things but she almost can’t help it. She wonders where Dennis’ intuition stems from but then again maybe she’s looking a little too deep into things once again. “Was he?” Dennis answers, short and blunt and it sounds less like a question and more like a statement. Casey shrugs a little. “You’ll want to keep that clean. It wouldn’t be good to get an infection there.” Dennis refers back to her lip and she nods. “I meant to put some stuff on it Friday night.” She doesn’t realize what she’s said until she sees Dennis’ expression morph into a slightly more confused one. “I-I went out to get something from the truck before I went to bed. That’s when I hit myself.” Casey feels herself flying into damage control mode and tries to remain level headed.  
　　  
　　So it was Friday night when she had hurt her lip apparently. Dennis is still frowning, arms crossed now as he stares down at her into her brown eyes. “You must have opened that door pretty fast if it’s just now starting to heal.” Dennis points out and he realizes he sounds accusing now but everything about the situation is showing red flags. Friday night, drunk uncle. He wonders again if there was a fight that happened between them after he left her house. Casey is frozen and doesn’t realize her mouth is slightly open until she shuts it, jaw clenching tight. She remains quiet and doesn’t know if she should dig herself deeper into her story or to come clean. “...Casey.” Dennis’ voice is quiet now and firmer than before. “Are you in trouble?” The question is serious and Casey feels that if she digs herself deeper into her own lie that everything’s fine that she wont have this chance again. An opportunity to reach out and tell someone something she’s kept quiet about her entire life. She’s silent and opens her mouth to say something but can’t find her words and knows that she’s too deep in it now, her hesitance to answer is almost an answer enough in itself. “Not... Really.” She finally says and it’s vague but Dennis feels like he knows the truth. He frowns and Casey sighs. “It was just more of a misunderstanding.” She admits and Dennis looks more concerned than unimpressed now. “What do you mean?” He asks and Casey looks over her shoulder as a few students walk by them. “Can we step outside?” She asks, the idea of anyone else overhearing about the delicate issue of her private life is unappealing to her. Dennis nods and the two of them turn back down the hall Casey came from to head towards one of the side exits of the school building where it’s reserved and quiet.  
　　  
　　It’s nice outside and they don’t need to go very far for their purposes, the two standing not far from the door. Dennis turns to face her, crossing his arms but refraining from leaning against the brick wall. “What’s this about?” His voice is firm but he refrains from sounding demanding. He doesn’t want to intimidate her if she’s opening up to him to tell him there’s something wrong. “There... Christ.” Casey starts talking and then stops, running a hand through her hair in an agitated manner before sighing heavily. “There was a fight, Friday after you left.” Casey continues and Dennis remains silent, his earlier thoughts having been confirmed. “In fact, literally right after.” She adds. “He thought I was up to something and he started yelling at me and he said some shit that made me mad so I yelled back at him.” Casey falls silent for a second, eyes gazing out over the empty lot that lies on the other side of the school’s parking lot. “He has a bad temper and it sort of doubles when he’s drunk. He got pissed off and slapped me.” Casey finally lets it spill and it doesn’t feel nearly as bad as she thought it was even though her heart is pounding with fear and the palms of her hands feel clammy. Dennis is shocked and slowly lets his arms fall to his sides. “Casey..” He doesn’t know what to say. Concern for her grips at his chest but he remains calm and collected. “Did you call someone?” He asks her but he doubts that she has considering her reluctance to tell him the truth. Casey shakes her head and sighs again. “No. And I’m not going to, it’ll just make things worse.” She huffs and digs her heels against the concrete as she leans against the wall. Dennis goes quiet and he can completely sympathize with her. He was once in her position, after all. Dennis looks over at her and is quiet for a second. “You make it sound like this... Wasn’t the first time.” Dennis breaks their silence and Casey glances at him from her peripheral, her teeth setting themselves delicately on the edge of her lip. “Nope.” Is her answer, short and curt. She doesn’t want to get into the rest of it.  
　　  
　　“Why did you wait until now to tell someone?” Dennis asks and Casey quietly tries to word her answer. “I guess I was scared, honestly.” The rubber sole of her shoe scrapes against the concrete as she shifts her weight. “If he got arrested then I would have to go off and live with some foster family since I don’t have any other family members.” She sighs quietly. Both of her grandparents had died long before she was born and with no mother or any siblings or other family members, John was the last of her blood relatives. “And if they couldn’t arrest him or anything then it would have made the situation worse and he would’ve flipped the hell out.” She had thought about every course of action that she could take, any path that would get her away from John. It’s just not that simple, especially now that she’s older. If something happened and John did get arrested, where would she go? She’s not a little girl anymore and there wouldn’t be a foster family to take her under their wing, instead it would be just her alone in the world trying to find her way through it. “We’re going to tell someone.” Dennis tells her and Casey shakes her head. “No. We’re not going to.” She’s solid on that and Dennis looks back at her with a firm gaze. “It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t tell anyone after you came to me with this.” Dennis is fearful and doesn’t want her to let this lie still. He knows what comes from not taking action and he doesn’t want that for Casey. “Okay, so you tell someone. Then what? They come by and arrest John?” Casey sounds frustrated now. “Then it’s up to me to somehow find a job and a place to live and afford rent. Forget ever going to college. My future would just be living paycheck to paycheck waiting tables at IHOP.” She continues and Dennis knows there’s truth in what she said. He was in her position once after all and can understand her fear. “And then what? That doesn’t reverse any of the damage he’s done. He’s just living in a cell. That’s the only difference.” Casey knows there’s no chance of her ever mentally being the same ever again and that this is her personal burden now.   
　　  
　　Dennis remains silent, watching her intently before he finally speaks. “There’s still a lot of chances for you.” He’s not really sure how to approach the issue and he’s horrible at this sort of thing, it’s not his area of expertise and never has been. He cares about Casey though and feels the need to convey his point to her even if he might not know the best way to say things. “Staying is just going to make it worse.” He says quietly. Casey turns to look at him and she looks irritated. “Yeah? You sound really sure about that.” She hates talking about this and she wants to wash her hands of the conversation entirely. Dennis rubs the back of his neck and sighs quietly. “I... I am.” He speaks and takes a step towards Casey. “When... I was growing up, someone hurt me too.” It’s hypocritical almost for him to give her this sort of advice when he did the exact same thing that she’s doing now, avoiding the issue for his whole life. But he wants to help her,; wants to let her know that it doesn’t have to be this way for her. “I didn’t do anything about it.” He confesses. Dennis realizes that this is the first time he’s ever spoken about this with anyone and it almost scares him. Casey is staring back at him, her eyes a little softer now that he’s spoken and she begins to understand just how much she can sympathize with Dennis. “Now that I look back, sometimes I wish I did.” He pauses. “I don’t want you to think that there’s no way out of this.” Dennis is concerned and it shows. It’s strange getting to see past his stern facade, if only just a little bit and once again Casey finds herself not knowing what to say. “Don’t tell anyone about this. Please.” It’s not a plea but she doesn’t want to think about the kind of chaos that could result in trying to get the police involved. “If the cops couldn’t find anything to arrest him on then I’m seriously fucked.” She continues, gesturing to her lip. “A busted lip on a problem kid who already starts a lot of trouble isn’t grounds to arrest someone on.” She sounds hopeless but Dennis knows that until there’s more tangible evidence then there’s the possibility John could go free and Casey would be marked as a liar by people around her.   
　　  
　　For most people the answer to the situation would be to clearly tell someone despite what she’s saying but Dennis knows that some things just aren’t always that simple. He sighs and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms. “You’ll have to tell someone eventually.” He says. Casey looks a little more fearful now and doesn’t say anything but Dennis won’t push her to. A lot of times people think that it’s easy to get help but when a secret has been buried for so long and there’s a threat of danger if it’s exposed, getting help sometimes just doesn’t feel like an option. She wants to tell, she’s wanted to scream it in people’s faces sometimes but there’s a deep fear inside of her at what will happen if she does. Casey knows that Dennis is right and that she does need to but she knows nothing will be the same ever again. The thought petrifies her but at the same time the thought of staying quiet forever and living alone with her pain is dismal. Dennis feels conflicted, knowing that to anyone else it would be unacceptable to not go to the authorities with this but his intuition and past experience also nags at him. Either way he’s putting Casey in danger and it’s a cold, sick feeling. He’s always been obsessed when keeping things under control and was always very good at it but this was much different, much slipperier. For the first time in a very long time, Dennis feels helpless.   
　　  
　　Casey checks the time on her phone and sees that it’s already been 26 minutes since she left class and she’ll have to be at her next one soon. Usually she wouldn’t care but she knows that if she skips class again or is late then she runs the risk of someone from the school calling John. After everything that’s happened she definitely doesn’t want to push her luck. There’s a lot weighing on her mind and she stuffs her phone back into the front pocket of her hoodie, turning to Dennis again. “I have to go, I don’t know if I’ll see you again until tomorrow but...” She pauses and inhales slowly, tucking a piece of hair back behind her ear. “I’ve never told anyone this before, ever. Just... Thanks. Thanks for listening.” She says. After living her whole life in silence suddenly someone’s there listening and she clings onto the feeling. Dennis nods but remains silent. He digs into the pocket of his work pants and pulls out a neatly folded receipt before tugging a pen from his shirt. Dennis quickly scrawls down something, carefully using his hand to stabilize the paper. He finishes writing and holds out the piece of paper towards her “...Here.” He states as Casey reaches forward accepts it, glancing down to see a number written in delicate, neat handwriting. “It... Doesn’t sit well with me.” Dennis confesses and it’s written all over him. “If something bad happens, or if you feel like something bad is going to happen I’m... Here.” He hopes it wont come down to any of it but he feels better knowing that Casey will call him if there were ever a situation that escalated. She glances down at the piece of paper in her hand before placing it in her pocket, not having any more time to linger. “Thanks.” She thanks him and turns away, pulling the door to the school open and stepping inside of the building, listening as it swings shut behind her. There’s a feeling of safety knowing that Dennis genuinely cares and she can’t recall anyone who ever has. She turns down a hallway and the neatly folded piece of paper feels hot in her pocket.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delays on this chapter! meant to post this last night but the weather decided that wasn't going to happen.

　　The next few days go by quickly yet quietly. The split on Casey’s lip has knitted itself back together for the most part, save for a slight discoloration where the mark had been. Things have gone back to normal, or as normal as they could possibly go in Casey’s world. Every day at school, she spends some of her free time talking to Dennis. Sometimes it’s only a brief nod from Dennis and other days he happens to not be doing anything when she runs into him. Casey never knew there was just that much that went into the upkeep of a school; It was a large building and Dennis was only one of several people who worked on it. Their friendship is apparent and it doesn’t go unnoticed. No one’s said anything rude or hateful about it but Casey had overheard a few girls in the bathroom once talking about how ‘Dennis is totally coming on to that girl that yelled at Mr. Orwell that one time in literature.’ The comment had made her turn red with embarrassment and she had to force herself to stay put in her stall until the girls left; a valiant attempt to not pull one of their hair extensions out. Ashamedly, Casey felt like the worst part was that she honestly didn’t feel like she would mind it even if that were the truth. She wanted to pull out some of her own hair for being so stupid, honestly. Some days Dennis will wait with Casey for her ride if he has time to spare but today he’s had the day off and Casey hasn’t seen him around. The company while she waits is nice and she’s grown to like it more and more. Days where she had to wait by herself definitely aren’t her preferred choice but in the end it makes no difference to her, waiting outside in the hot afternoon sun.  
　　  
　　Her uncle is actually on time today and she rises as soon as she spies his truck rolling down the pavement to halt at the curb. “Hey Casey.” He greets her with an affectionate tone as she climbs into the passengers seat, closing the door behind her with a metallic thump. She doesn’t return the greeting but that’s usual for her and John doesn’t say anything, just simply puts the truck in gear and moves out. The car ride is silent save for the sound of garbled talk radio about the latest political scandal and the gentle hum of the engine. John reaches up and turns the volume to the radio down by a few notches before briefly glancing at Casey then back to the road. “I’m having a couple of friends over tonight.” He tells her and it’s more of a warning for her to behave herself rather than him informing her. “Neat.” Is all Casey answers with. She doesn’t take her eyes off of her phone screen. John’s friends aren’t necessarily bad but when it’s a group of grown men all drunk off of their asses and hollering over whatever sort of sport is on TV, Casey would rather bury herself alive than have to be anywhere around it. They all work together and they come over frequently, loud and obnoxious. She draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a slow, inaudible sigh, dreading the evening ahead of her. The best option will just be to grab a few snacks and lock herself in her room until they go home and John goes to sleep; not much different than many other evenings she’s had in the past. Eventually they reach the house and Casey doesn’t waste her time heading straight for her room, shedding her coat and bag onto the floor at the foot of her bed. The sunlight filters through her window shades in straight golden bars across her room and she collapses on the mattress so the light can fall across her too.  
　　  
　　It’s been almost a week but Dennis’ number is still in her pocket, even though she’s already entered the number on her phone days ago. She reaches in and pulls it out, looking at it in the dimness of her room. The paper’s worn and crumpled now from having been in her pocket and she inspects the neatly written sequence of numbers. His writing is impeccable just like everything else he does and Casey finds herself almost admiring its neatness. Sometimes she gets the urge to call him, just to talk to him and see how he’s doing but Casey knows that that’s not what she has his number for. He’s her friend, of course, but first and foremost he’s a lifeline for her in case if something happens like the incident last week. She frowns and lazily discards the piece of paper, letting it fall in a zig zag to the rug on her floor. The quietness of the room dissipates when the air conditioner cuts on with a shudder and a hum and an idea crosses Casey’s mind. She rises to her knees, still on her bed in a kneeling position but now facing her window. Forget about staying at home and having to listen to uncle John and his stupid work buddies get drunk and holler about some dumbass sport, she had better plans. Casey pulls on the cord that dangles from her blinds, drawing them up and letting in the sunshine. It only takes her a second to unlock the little latches that keep the window locked and she slides the pane of glass upwards. The screen has already been popped out from her last escape from the house and lays in the weed-ridden flowerbed underneath her window. It’s easy enough for her to get out of the window and she’s thankful that they don’t live in a two story house or this would be impossible. She makes sure she has her wallet with her before closing the window, dead leaves and vines crunching underneath her sneakers as she makes her way out of the flowerbed and across her backyard. There’s a little gate on the side of the house that leads between the neighbors house and hers, a little path almost that goes up to the front yard along the driveway. John won’t be worried about her, especially when his friends show up and Casey feels the familiar sense of excited freedom when her feet meet the sidewalk in front of her house.  
　　  
　　At first, she’s not really sure where she wants to go but starts walking anyway and for the first time in a while Casey wishes she had some sort of friend group she could meet up with. She’ll make do on her own just fine however and drops the thought as soon as it comes up. An idea enters her head and she remembers that there’s a grocery store not very far from her house and though it’s usually a little busy, she can stop by there and get something to drink. From there she can head down the street another block or so to the park and just sit for a while, enjoying the crisp autumn air. The leaves are turning from their yellow-green color to a more golden hue and soon every tree on the street will be exploding with deep reds, oranges and browns. Casey loves autumn, despite the memories that it brings along with its chill. There’s no need to hurry and she takes her time, strolling down the sidewalk past houses, chain link fences and crossing quiet intersections. It’s an excellent evening for a walk and she can tell that the days are beginning to get shorter, even if it is just the late afternoon. It doesn’t take her much longer to reach the store and there’s the chime of an electronic sensor when she walks in through the automatic doors, a few workers looking up from bagging groceries but saying nothing. It’s been a while since Casey’s been in here and she looks around for the bottled drinks, taking her time. She has the whole evening to herself and it’s a little interesting to see the different variety of things that they sell. There’s a wide array of imported products, strange pickled vegetables, turmeric powder, expensive herbs and spices. She rounds the corner of an aisle and finds herself looking at a vast array of different produce. Casey just meant to only go in and get out quick before heading to the park but once again she has to remind herself that there’s no reason to hurry through things, she’ll be out for a while. Of course she’ll have to think of somewhere else to go once it gets dark but there’s always a fast food place to wait in.  
　　  
　　She lazily ambles along the refrigerated shelves, gazing at the leafy green blades of bok choy and the many different kinds of apples they had to offer. Produce is only so interesting however and she soon becomes bored with everything, turning away to walk off towards an area that would probably have what she was looking for. She glances up and immediately someone familiar catches her eye and she turns her head slightly to get a better look. Across the space of the produce section she immediately recognizes that it’s Dennis and not just someone familiar. He’s out of his work uniform for once but still well-dressed, collared shirt neatly ironed and tucked in, even for just a trip to the grocery store. He carefully inspects a head of cabbage for any impurities before setting it down and picking up another one, scrutinizing it as well. Casey watches him, contemplating if she should just leave him alone and let him run his errands in peace, or if she should go up and say hi to him. She’s never actually seen Dennis outside of the school before if you hadn’t counted the time he’d dropped her phone off at her house and the sight is strange. Dennis hesitates before getting a small plastic bag from the stand to place the cabbage in, having settled for the best he could find. Summoning a little bit of courage, Casey decides that she should go up to him and makes her way towards him. He looks up over the rim of his glasses once he notices someone approaching him out of his peripheral. It takes him a second or two to realize who he’s looking at and his eyebrows subtly raise. “Casey?” He asks, looking up. “Hey. Weird place to run into you at.” She smiles crookedly and Dennis sets the bag down in the cart. “I eat sometimes.” He retorts and she rolls her eyes. “Cabbage, huh?” Casey pulls a face and Dennis nods. “It’s good in stir fry.” He notes and Casey arches a brow. “That’s true. It’s shitty when you boil it though.” She states and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Can’t say I’ve ever tried it.” Dennis says and she shakes her head. “Yeah well, you’re not exactly missing much.” She comments.  
　　  
　　He looks down at her, momentarily assuming a thoughtful expression. “Are you busy?” Dennis suddenly asks and Casey shakes her head. “No, I’m sort of just killing time right now, to be honest. Why?” She asks, barely tilting her head to the side. “Um.. I’m about to head home and make dinner.” Dennis pauses and looks away. “If you’d like, you can come over.” He lowers his voice like they’re making some sort of murder pact or drug deal and Casey’s amused by it. “Well, you _do_ have to show me your rice cooking skills. Or stir fry skills, whatever works really.” She nods and Dennis looks pleased. “You’re sure its fine?” Dennis is worried about John and as hard as he tries to hide it from her, Casey can still pick up on his concern. “Seriously, My uncle doesn’t even know I’m gone. He would’ve ordered a drone strike on the whole town if he’d noticed.” Casey does her best to assure him yet he still looks anxious despite her attempts. “Alright.” He speak, a little calmer now. “We should be going though. This should be everything we need.” He nods towards the cart and Casey follows at his side when he starts off towards the registers. The cashier greets him with a friendly smile that he doesn’t bother to return, simply nods and makes the payment. It doesn’t take them long to make it out to the car where Dennis opens the trunk to his car, moving a pair of jumper cables out of the way before beginning to load the groceries into the trunk. Casey helps him even though there’s not very much to load in there in the first place and even if there was he’s more than capable of doing it himself.  
　　  
　　Casey is a little interested at the prospect of seeing where Dennis lives. He’s had a peek into her little world, taxidermy deer heads and bathroom wallpaper patterned with fishing lures. She wonders how different his own world is. They drive for a bit and pass a few familiar streets before pulling into an apartment complex. It’s nothing fancy but it’s quiet and looks like its well kept. Dennis pulls into a spot and cuts off the engine before Casey steps out of the car. Casey offers to take one of the few bags that’s in the trunk and together they enter the building, a long hallway guiding them to a stairwell which they ascend by a single floor. Dennis is quiet while they walk but it’s not a bad kind of silence. He’s always quiet and she wonders what goes on inside of his head; the different mechanisms and workings. There’s a dimly lit hall that they walk through before stopping at a door with the number ‘107’ painted onto its grey surface. Dennis fumbles for his keys, realizing he probably should have had them out already before unlocking the door. He’s a little nervous, letting her in. Dennis could count the amount of times he’d been into other people’s homes on one hand but guests of his own? This was a first. Inviting people over for dinner was absolutely alien to him, let alone a highschool girl who had slipped out of her house underneath her violent uncle’s nose. He opens the door and lets Casey go ahead of him, closing the door behind him and flipping on the light.  
　　  
　　Casey peers around at the apartment, white walls and beige carpet. The faint smell of pine-scented cleaning product hangs thinly in the air, strong but not overpowering. Everything is just as clean, if not more clean than she had expected it to be, like it was some sort of exhibit and not like someone actually lived here. The living area is divided by small counter space, a small kitchen on the other side where the carpet stops and neatly polished tile is introduced. Dennis sets down the groceries on the counter, looking at Casey as she curiously looks around. There’s no decorations save for a sad looking throw pillow on the couch and a coffee table in front of that. There’s a shelf on the wall that has a few books, all on varying but similar topics. There’s some on welding, other on air conditioner mechanics. They look like they might have been from his time in trade school, not anything that he still bothered to read to this day. At the end of the shelf there’s a picture frame that grabs her attention. There’s a woman, blonde hair pulled into a bun, eyes directed towards the viewer with a calm smile on her face. It takes her a second to notice the label at the edge of the picture that reads ‘Frame: 7.5 x 7.5 cm’ and she realizes that it’s just the basic stock photo the company must have put as a placeholder. She gives a quiet huff of laughter. “Your ex wife?” She jokes, looking over at Dennis who’s crouched down, opening a cabinet. “Mm.” He mumbles but doesn’t look up as he pulls out a skillet and a cutting board. It’s surreal, seeing him like this in his natural habitat. She watches him roll his sleeves up to his elbows and switch the tap on, soaping his hands up as he waits for the water to heat. It’s soothing.  
　　  
　　Where the tile ends there’s a small dining area with a small table and two chairs set up at that she passes by to lean on the counter. “Did you want any help with that?” She offers, feeling a little guilty for not offering in the first place. “No, I’ve got it.” He says, flicking the excess water off of his hands before drying them on a fluffy white dish towel. “Besides, you told me you can’t cook.” Dennis peers at her from over the rim of his glasses and she turns a little red. “Whoops, forgot about that.” She says and idly runs a few fingers through her hair. “Well, I guess it’d just be safer for me to watch then. I’ll spare you this time.” Casey states playfully and she notices a faint smile on Dennis’ face as he turns his attention back to the cutting board. It’s almost hypnotizing watching him as he slices pork into thin pieces almost artfully, preparing everything in its proper order. She almost envies how naturally his fastidiousness comes to him. He throws the meat into the skillet with a little bit of oil and onion, letting it cook a little before adding the rest of the vegetables. Casey wonders just how many nights he comes home and does this sort of thing. From what she’s heard, no one from the school has ever interacted with him outside of work. He chooses to isolate himself, she realizes. He’s the same as her in that way, preferring his own company over the company of others. Suddenly, Casey feels lucky in a way to be standing in his kitchen watching him cook as if she were witnessing something rare.  
　　  
　　It doesn’t take long for the food to finish and soon Dennis nods in the direction of the table. “Sit, I’ll bring you a plate.” He says, and Casey does just so. He looks a little embarrassed as he sets the plate down in front of her, sitting across from her with his own. “I, uh.. Forgot to get rice.” He admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Casey shrugs and smiles playfully. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to show me your tricks some other time.” She says. It smells good and she’s a little surprised that someone as technically-minded as Dennis would be as good at this as he is. When she’d first met him, he sort of struck her as the type to live off of peanut butter and microwaved ramen. “I hope you like it.” He’s genuine and Casey takes a bite. He restrains himself from watching her like some sort of predatory bird and turns his attention down to the table. “Oh, shit.” Casey says, her mouth still full. Taking a moment to swallow, she looks up at Dennis. “Sorry, this is just really good.” She says and Dennis feels a strange sense of accomplishment wash across him. There’s a faint tightness in his chest as he watches her excited reaction and he inhales steadily. “Good.” He speaks, voice quiet. Dennis values privacy above everything else but having Casey here with him is different, the glint of excitement in her eye stirs something in him and his pulse feels harder, faster. It’s refreshing.

　　They finish and she brings her dishes into the kitchen behind Dennis. “I can take care of these, don’t worry about it.” He assures her and even though Casey feels like it’s the least she can do to thank him for the food he seems firm about it and she complies. “You sure?” She asks and Dennis nods, looking over at her. “I don’t want you to worry about it.” He says. It wouldn’t have been a bother to her but she doesn’t press any further. There’s a sliding glass door on the far wall of the living room that leads out onto a little outdoor platform that most apartments have and it catches Casey’s attention. She peeks through the blinds and it’s devoid of any kind of furnishings, unsurprisingly. What is surprising though is the small potted plant that sits on the floor near the railing, some kind of lily that looks like it’s well tended to. Dennis, the angry, anti-social mechanic who has a passion for potted plants. It’s a strange image but it’s him and it’s endearing in a way. She lifts the bar that keeps the door locked before stepping out onto the small balcony, the cool autumn air brushing against her cheeks. Time has passed and the sky is a dusky gray-blue, tiny stars beginning to peak out and the sun still sits low on the horizon, traversing into some other time zone some other place. It’s quiet regardless of the faint noise from the road and Casey sighs quietly. There’s the nagging paranoia that her uncle will somehow find out she’s left but for now she feels calmer than she has in a very long time.  
　　  
　　It’s rare, moments like these. Dennis goes through his life trying desperately to control everything that he can, cramming things into routines and categories. He hates spontaneity more than anything because it can’t be controlled. Everything in his life he keeps on a tight reign to keep himself from suffocating and yet Casey was something more than spontaneous in his life. As a person Casey is quiet, calm and relaxed but their relationship is something that would have formed regardless if Dennis had wanted it or not. Yet, despite the lack of control, it’s the most freeing thing he’s ever felt. Bonds with others were never built but he welcomes it with Casey. It’s a good feeling and he doesn’t want to let go of it despite what the future imminently holds. He breaks his concentration, looking up from drying a plate to gaze at Casey through the glass door as she rests her elbows on the railing, looking up at the evening sky and his heart aches. He finishes the dishes in a matter of a few minutes, drying them carefully before putting them away. A sense of guilt holds itself heavy in his chest and he wonders if he would do the same for any one else if they were in Casey’s position. Part of him wants to believe he would but he knows that it’s not true. No, if some boy or girl came to him with some sort of home life problem he would have taken them over to someone in the faculty and let them deal with it. Casey and her situation is personal to him, something sacred that lies between the two of him. Dennis knows good and well that the feeling of careful protectiveness that he holds for Casey would be impossible to instill in anyone else. The worst part is that he’s not exactly sure why.  
　　  
　　Physically, Casey is attractive but anything he does for her is never out of preying on her. If anything he’s trying to keep her as far away as he possibly can from that sort of thing; to keep her protected from people who want to use her. Dennis makes his way to join her outside, opening the door and quietly lingering behind her. She turns her head to look at Dennis before letting the rest of her body face him. “I know I say this a bunch, but thanks, Dennis.” Casey’s voice is soft and quiet and Dennis averts his gaze from her. “It’s nothing.” He murmurs, adjusting his glasses. She shakes her head and takes a single step closer to him. “Seriously though. I...” Casey trails off a little as she tries to find her words. “You really put yourself out there for me by keeping everything secret... I mean hell, you put yourself out there by just being a friend to me, really.” She continues and Dennis feels hot and like he’s about to die all at once. “No one’s ever been there for me before, except you.” Her words seep into Dennis like he was some sort of sponge. He brings himself to look at her and shakes his head. “I-It’s really nothing.” Dennis stammers and Casey shakes her head. “But it is something, seriously. You’re a good person Dennis.” She says it directly to him but he can’t believe it, not when he feels the way he does about Casey. It’s wrong, he knows it and feels like he’s only making things in her life worse. They’re friends and nothing more, never will be and he wants to protect her before anything else. If that meant snuffing out his feelings, stuffing them in a box and then locking that box seven hundred feet under the earth, he would do it. He’d promised her.  
　　  
　　“I’m not.” Dennis states coldly and she frowns, brown eyes peering at him. “That’s fine if you want to think that.” She says in a matter-of-fact fashion, not turning from him. “I’ve heard how people talk about you, all the different things they say.” Her thoughts reflect back to overheard conversations, rumors and gossip. Dennis feels himself growing tenser by the second, looking away from her when she steps closer to him once again. He wasn’t sure what exactly she _had_ heard but he was well aware the things people said about him. It was a shameful feeling to know that she’d heard these things, regardless if she cared or believed any of them or not it felt awful. “I can’t give a fuck about how you view yourself or how others view you. I see you through your actions and I can appreciate that person.” She says carefully. Casey is not one for pep-talks and she never has been but this isn’t a pep-talk and it’s not assurance. No, Casey does none of those things and never will until the day she dies. This is the truth, truth that she wants Dennis to hear. She knows now that she feels more than affectionately for Dennis and it’s a dull ache in her chest. There’s no way that her feelings would ever be reciprocated and she chooses to be realistic about things to save herself from saying anything stupid. Even if she can’t tell Dennis the way she feels, she wants him to know that he’s still a good person regardless. Even if these feelings didn’t exist in her, even if they’re to eventually go away, she wants Dennis to know his worth to her.  
　　  
　　She’s closer to him than she’s ever been before, even if it’s only a few inches away. Her face feels hot and the rest of her feels stupid for everything she’s saying and everything she’s thinking. “You’ve done a lot for me. I mean hell, I would have had to been around my uncle and his drunk ass friends all night if I hadn’t run into you.” She says. Dennis feels like taking her home then moving to a completely different coast, never to be heard from again. She says these things but he wishes that she knew that what he felt now was beyond friendship and was inappropriate. If she really knew, she would be disgusted and betrayed, he’d lose his job and have a hell of a time trying to find one anywhere else. He wants to push her away, spare her from his own feelings but he knows that he can’t. It runs too deep now and he’s promised to be there for her if anything happens, the thought of living with the guilt of having her handle things alone again is too much to bear. He could never subject her to it. “I want you to be safe.” Dennis says quietly. “You’re...” The words want to come out but he knows he can’t say them all, not entirely. “You’re important to me.” Dennis is full of regret. She’s beyond important to him, this girl he’s known for hardly a month. This girl who’s barely 18, who’s alone with him in his apartment right now. She hasn’t turned away from him and his coldness, his harsh attitude and lacking social abilities. Casey is still here, with him, despite everything and he’s torn. “And you’re important to me, Dennis.” Casey states, her voice barely above a murmur.  
　　  
　　It’s quiet, unbearably tense between them. Casey’s face still feels like she’s been maced and her emotions swell and rise like angry waves far from any shore. She wants to tell him everything but doesn’t want to lose the one genuine friendship she’s made in her entire life. The one person that hasn’t used her or manipulated her to get something that they wanted, who hasn’t taken anything from her. Casey’s heart is greedy but common sense reigns supreme and it’s a gamble she knows she could never take, as much as she would like to. Dennis is a grown man with his own agenda and she’s sure that he would distance himself away from her if she told him exactly how special he was to her. Yet, there’s still this feeling that she cant bring herself to ignore; the feeling that something deeper is shared between the two of them. She wonder’s if she’s just imagining it. The pause between them breaks and Casey doesn’t really know what she’s doing until she’s already in motion, pressing herself slowly against Dennis’ chest and wrapping her arms around him. She can feel the texture of his shirt against her cheek, the firmness of his body underneath the weight of his arms and how tense he is; how tense he’s been this whole conversation. Dennis is overwhelmed as he feels her press against him and he tries desperately to keep his body from trembling when he feels her arms wrap around his torso. His arms hang heavy, half-lifted at his sides before he finally lets them settle around her shoulders. If he felt like he was about to die before, he was definitely dead now and this was some sort of strange vision he was having in the thralls of passing away. He can feel the soft slopes of her shoulder blades underneath his palms and he can feel her face pressed against his upper chest, right beneath his chin. The smell of her hair, the feeling of her warm body against his is absolutely overwhelming and his heart is beating so hard he’s sure she can hear it.  
　　  
　　The embrace only lasts a second but it feels like hundreds of years have gone by when Casey pulls away. She gazes up back at him, the crisp scent of whatever cologne he uses clings to her clothes and hair. Dennis looks surprised, his face is red and he stares back at her silently, unmoving. He honestly has no clue what to say or what to do, mouth slightly open like he wants to speak but doesn’t know how. “I really mean that.” Casey assures him but regret is swimming inside of her. She’s not sure why she did it but he’d embraced her back so that must have meant he didn’t mind, right? Either that or he was just going along with it out of pity for her and her rotten situation. It’s not the first time she’s wanted to kick herself. Casey’s been careless with boys before because they hadn’t mattered to her in the least bit, just distractions to try and liven up her existence. Dennis is much different than that, there’s an emotional bond that’s been forged between them that she wants to keep strong. “D-do you?” Dennis stammers, breathless. He really doesn’t know what to say to her and can only stare, chest rising and falling nervously. “You’re one of the first people I’ve ever really cared about.” Casey says, stepping back a little further. “Sorry, I know that sounds stupid but it’s true.” She waves a hand, dismissing her previous statement but Dennis feels touched by what she’s saying. Feelings of affection were foreign to Dennis and in many ways this was a first for him as well. His breathing is a little slower now and Dennis feels himself beginning to calm down a bit, adjusting his glasses with a slightly shaking hand. “It’s not stupid.” He says, glancing away from her. “I’m.. Glad.” Dennis adds and he knows he doesn’t sound convincing despite how hard he’s trying to. “I’m glad I’m that person.”  
　　  
　　Casey worries she’s made him uncomfortable but as he speaks she realizes he’s serious and not just trying to humor her. A smile can’t help but twitch across her lips and Dennis definitely feels like he’s either going to have a heart attack or burst into flames at any second, maybe both if he’s extra lucky. He wasn’t skilled at dealing with emotions, especially whatever this feeling inside of him was. It’s unbearable, having to lock it all up inside of his chest. “You are.’ Casey says. She means it and wants to convey all the deeper meanings behind it but refrains. It’s better to stay quiet about her true feelings and she knows that with patience, the feelings will eventually settle and fade, disappearing from her heart. It’s easy to fall for someone and she’s not going to let emotions ruin the one good thing she has going for her right now. If you don’t feed something, eventually it’ll die on its own. It’s definitely getting dark now and Casey looks at her phone screen. Her uncle’s friends are probably still over but she knows that eventually they’ll leave and she’ll need to be home before then. “Jeez it’s already 8.” She doesn’t want to change the subject but Dennis begins to feel relief, heart still thudding. “I gotta get home before I get caught.” Casey sighs and tucks her phone away, looking back to Dennis. He’s still silent and has to draw himself out of the mess that is his thoughts and back into reality. “Hm? Yeah, yeah.” He quickly agrees, nodding. “I’ll take you home then.” He clears his throat and watches as she steps back inside of his apartment, following right behind her.  
　　  
　　The ride home is awkward and Casey begins to reflect on everything she’s said and whether if it was the right thing to say or not. You can’t tell what’s going on in another persons head or what their actual thoughts are; what they’re really thinking about you. People have to take each others words and learn to trust each other, something Casey’s been struggling with all her life. Is he put off by her now? He seemed unbearably nervous and she’s worried that maybe she’s shown too much of her feelings to him now and he’ll withdraw completely from her. It’s quiet in the car, Dennis knows which streets to take and which intersections to turn at. The longer they’re quiet, the more anxious Dennis starts to feel. He’s a burning ball of emotions right now and for a man who keeps everything in his life under control, it’s jarring. You don’t have problems like this when you don’t let other people get close to you. “Stop here.” Casey says, even though they’re two houses down from her actual house. “Don’t want him to spot your car out here.” She adds, her voice tight in her throat. He puts the car in park and turns to look at her, expecting her to bid him farewell and dash away into the dark. Casey remains seated, chewing on her inner lip like there’s something that she wants to say but can’t figure out how to say it. She turns and looks at him and he can make out the planes and slopes of her face in the dim orange sodium light that emanates from the street lamp across the road. “Thanks again, Dennis.” It’s probably the hundredth time she’s thanked him but she feels like it needs to be said. “You’re a really great person.” She adds and Dennis is silent. She turns to open the car door when she feels a hand on her forearm. “Wait-” Dennis lets his touch linger on her and she turns back to face him.  
　　  
　　He wants to say something but realizes he doesn’t know what he actually wants to say. “Um.. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” He asks. Casey lets her arm slide from his touch, letting her hand slip into its place. Dennis is frozen in his spot, her hand is so much more delicate compared to his own. “Well yeah, duh. Unless I get abducted by aliens or some shit.” Her response is casual in her usual fashion but her hand still lingers in his, her skin warm and soft. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen then.” Dennis murmurs. It falls quiet again and the atmosphere in the car feels like the tense electric build up before lightning strikes. “I’ll keep a lookout for UFOs.” Her hand slips away from his while she speaks and opens the door, climbing out. Before closing it, she bends over and peeks back in at Dennis. “Thanks again. ‘Night Dennis.” She says, letting the door shut before starting off for her backyard. Dennis watches her disregard the sidewalk and cut across the fresh-clipped lawns of her neighbors before disappearing between the two houses. It’s dark and she can hardly see in front of her as she tramples back through the flowerbed, struggling a little to shimmy her window open. She vaults through the open pane and bumps her knee clumsily against the side of the house as she struggles back into her room. Her bed is waiting for her on the other side and she closes the window behind her, lowering the blinds once again. It was like she hadn’t even left, door still closed and desk lamp still on. She can hear the muffled voices of John and his friends over the hum of the television, sitting at the edge of the bed to kick her shoes off. Casey pauses, legs dangling from off the side of her bed. She’s not sure what exactly just happened in the car between them but she’s never felt the way she feels for Dennis. There’s something in the way he looked at her on the porch and in the car. It’s impossible to ignore despite the fact that she could be over-thinking things.  
　　  
　　But what _if_ he felt the same way about her? What if it’s not one-sided? The questions stampede all at once in a circle around her mind but even if the answer was yes, what would she even do about it? Have some sort of secret affair? Even if there were mutual feelings between them Casey fears that there still wouldn’t be anything that either of them could do about it. She’ll never know how Dennis feels and she realizes that it’s better that way because either way, they’ll both have to let it die. An ache of sadness tugs at her and she feels conflicted. No, even if these things were true she knows that nothing could come from them. She wants to keep Dennis close to her, even if that means only being his friend. Even if she has to hide the way she feels forever, it’s worth it just to be beside him. With a frustrated sigh, she rolls off of her bed and onto her feet to change into something to sleep in. It’s not late and her uncle's still being loud and disruptive in the next room but she’s tired and sleep is the only thing to cure the feeling that’s expanding rapidly in her chest.  
　　  
　　It’s late by the time Dennis finally shuts his book, turns off the lamp and decides to sleep. He’s scoured himself in the shower and had been reading for hours now, anything to take his mind away from Casey. He’d wanted to kiss her, right there in his car in the dim street light. He wants to get her away from this town, get her away from her shitty uncle and keep her safe for the rest of her life. It’s a stupid fantasy, something he’s not usually prone to. Dennis knows that eventually, Casey will move on and he can only hope for the best when it comes to her future. He’s her friend and he’s agreed to be there for her, but he isn’t some kind of holy savior. Only stupid people think like that and right now he feels very, very stupid. He’s here to ease the burden of her life for a split second in the grand scheme of things, nothing more and that’s just the way things have to be. Dennis lays on his back, an arm behind his head and his hand on his chest. He pulls his glasses from off of his face and leans over to set them down on the night stand, the clock reading ‘2:24’ in slightly fuzzy, red numbers. He sighs, long and quiet in the dark. His eyes feel heavy and tired but thoughts assault him like flies to something rotten. If Casey wants him to love her, he’ll do it. If she wants him to protect her, he’ll do it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her as long as she asked it of him, he’d keep whatever secrets she opens up to her, take her anywhere in the world. He would kill for her. If only she knew the extent to which his feelings dug down to, surely she would push him away. But he’ll do anything for Casey, even if that means to feel for her quietly and secretly. He’s her protector, and he’ll do anything to keep that. It's the worst feeling in the world knowing that things will have to be this way just to keep them from disappearing from his life completely. He can't imagine what it would be like if Casey were to disappear and things were to go back to the way they were before. Unbearable, probably. Dennis sighs and rolls over onto his side, closing his eyes. As he lets sleep take him, he realizes that this is what love, terrible and encompassing, must really feel like.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /TW for some abuse in this chapter!\  
> sorry for the wait on this, i rewrote it a bunch of times until it finally felt right. enjoy!
> 
> https://bornslippey.tumblr.com/

　　Casey doesn’t see Dennis the next day. He’s not in any of his normal spots and usually he makes some sort of attempt to find Casey and talk to her towards the end of the day but there’s nothing. At first, she thinks he’s avoiding her because of her impulsiveness the night before but he asked if he was going to see her today, right? The memory eases her anxiety by a little bit. Part of her wants to ask one of the other staff what had happened to Dennis or if he was even at work today, but she knows that would probably make some sort of trouble, or just look weird. It’s not one of his usual off days and she feels part worried and part confused. School’s let out and Casey is outside waiting for her uncle to come and pick her up, still no sight of Dennis. People have distanced themselves away from her before and she’s starting to worry that that’s exactly what’s happening here with Dennis. Things had been a little awkward yesterday, but nothing seemed wrong when she said goodbye to him. Why would things suddenly be weird now? Then again, maybe its a thought that she should consider also. It’s unrealistic to think that she could be close to Dennis in the way she wants to be and maybe she should distance herself from him. It’s true that she definitely likes Dennis, she’s accepted the fact and knows that she has to deal with it properly. She’d definitely pushed her limits too far last night and it was starting to seem a little obvious now. Regret tugs on her and she wishes that she could time travel and completely redo everything that had happened last night. She’s thought about texting him several times throughout the day, but didn’t want to bother him. The thought nags at her again, re-stirring the feeling of curiosity. Casey pulls out her phone and opens up her messages, composing a new one under Dennis’ contact. She’s never texted him before and doesn’t even know if he’ll text back. She hesitates for a moment, thumb hovering over the send button. He gave her his number solely for the purpose of if there was an emergency and she feels a little guilty just casually messaging him even though nothing’s wrong. Tossing judgment aside, Casey decides to take her chances and message him anyway.  
　　  
　　 _”didnt see you today. you okay?”_  
　　She keeps it short, simple and to the point. Quickly, she puts her phone back into her pocket, too nervous to see if he’ll respond to her or not. Casey knows well that she’s probably over-reacting but she wants to know if she’s truly just over-thinking things or if he’s really trying to push her away. She loathes herself a little for getting this into someone. Casey’s never been one to really care that much about people, even guys in the past she’d been out with she hadn’t cared this much about. She finds herself feeling a little bit ridiculous most of the time for how she feels over Dennis. Out of everyone in her school, in the entire nation, the entire world, why did she have to feel this way about him of all people? Why not just find some nice boy or girl from one of her classes and feel this way about them instead and have a perfectly normal stereotypical highschool fling? Instead of letting herself obsess over her weird controversial friendship with a middle aged, anti-social maintenance man who people are honestly kind of terrified of. She tilts her head back, letting it rest against the rough brick of the school’s wall before giving a quiet huff of irritation. This was exactly the sort of thing Casey worked hard to avoid: complex, confusing relationships with people. Easier said than done.  
　　  
　　 _”didnt see you today. you okay?”_  
　　The notification pops up on Dennis’ phone, blocking the wall of text from the article he’s trying to read. It’s unusual for him to get a text unless if it’s work related and he touches the notification before it disappears. The number isn’t one he recognizes but as he reads the message he realizes that it’s Casey, or at least he’s pretty sure that it is. He stares at the screen until it automatically dims, unable to come up with any sort of response. Dennis had barely slept the night before after he had brought Casey home, and the little sleep he had managed to catch a hold of hadn’t been satisfying. He’d woken up to heavy eyes and nerves full of guilt. He’d called into work sick, something very unusual for him. He’d never missed a day of work in his entire life and usually he would have felt bad for lying but the pre-existing anxiety over the night before was overpowering anything else on his mind. He’d tried his best to go about his daily routines and rituals but everything felt off. Touching her, hugging her, letting her hold his hand, asking if he was going to see her tomorrow. It was stupid. He feels guilty for the way he feels about Casey, he has from the start and now after last night he feels it even more. For a second, Dennis wonders if she really had meant any of the things she’d told him last night or if she was just trying to be nice. He wonders if she genuinely sees him as a friend or if she just sees him as some sort of way out. Then again, that’s his first and foremost role, isn’t it? He’s here exactly for that reason, not to be her boyfriend or something. The word tastes sour in his mind and he immediately erases all thought of the idea. He’s a little surprised though that she’s bothered to text him after he’d been absent from work today. Hesitantly, he unlocks his phone and begins to respond.

　　 _”Sorry, came down with something.”_  
　　Casey feels her phone vibrate against her outer thigh and she cautiously peeks at the screen, the notification showing Dennis’ name. She carefully reads the message and feels a sense of relief wash over her as she learns that he actually hadn’t been there at all today. She feels a little bad for him, stuck at home with whatever he’s got. She’ll wait a little bit before she texts him back, not wanting to seem like she’s too eager. Casey ponders what she should say next. Just a simple sorry? Maybe get well soon? Or would that be too much? Would not saying enough be stand-offish? There’s a lot of different things that she could say and she begins to contemplate before her phone goes off again. It’s her uncle this time, letting her know he’s there and waiting outside for her in the truck. Casey hesitates for a minute before opening up her messages with Dennis again and beginning to type.  
_”yikes. that sucks lol”_  
She hits the send button after hastily writing the message before grabbing her bag and making her way outside to where her uncle is waiting for her. Her uncle greets her, the same as he always does and she tries to turn her attention to other things. Dennis sees the notification pop up again as he’s reading. He’s not really sure what to say in response to her, or if a response is really even necessary. Dennis does want to respond, he’s just not sure what even to really say to that. Yeah, it does suck. He decides quickly that he actually hates texting and that it’s almost just as much social pressure as it is when talking to someone face to face. Deciding against it, he goes back to reading. Dennis really doesn’t have many hobbies and it’s rare that he has free time that’s not filled with cleaning and other chores. Reading is pleasant, it fills up time and occupies his mind, giving him a break from his own head for a few hours. He’s not picky at all and there’s really nothing he won’t read, he’s always loved it. It’s not more than a couple of minutes later before his phone buzzes again in his hand, alerting him with another notification from Casey.

　　 _”well get better soon. it was weird not seeing you today.”_  
　　It’s a little nice to see that he was missed. He was beginning to think that his attraction to her was becoming apparent and he was worried that she was going to start withdrawing from him. Then again, she was the one who had embraced him last night so did he really have any reason to think those things in the first place? He wasn’t sure. Dennis was unaccustomed to any of these things. It was nice though, to have someone who’s now a regular part of your life day in and day out. It’s a foreign and strange concept but he feels himself beginning to accept it nonetheless. Guilt begins to press him once again and he feels bad for lying to her about being sick and the way he feels about her in general. Maybe he should go for a walk, something, _anything_ to just forget about all of this mess. He’s already cleaned the bathroom twice today but it probably wouldn’t hurt to clean it a third time. Dennis heaves himself from his spot on the couch and stretches momentarily, glance falling down onto his phone, considering. He picks it up and goes to text her back.  
_”It was weird not being there.”_  
There, that seemed satisfactory enough. Casual but not uncaring. Dennis sets his phone back down and decides to find something productive to do with the remainder of the evening. 

　　Casey’s alarm goes off at the same time it usually does, 6:45. She has several that blast about every ten minutes from her phone until about 7:30, when she actually has to be out of bed. She stirs, sleepy and irritated by the default tone of her alarm before quickly pressing the snooze button. Casey has never been a morning person, even as far back as she can remember. A quick glance at the time tells her that it’s not quite time to get out of bed and into the shower just yet and she rolls over, sheets tangling between her legs. Desperately, she tries to fall back asleep but it’s too late now and she’s mostly awake. She rolls onto her back, half-lidded eyes blinking in the darkness of her room. The thought of school fills her with dread but the possibility of seeing Dennis today quickly outweighs it. It’s weird, actually looking forward to seeing someone. She’s only known Dennis for a short while but already she has a tough time remembering what she did before she knew him, or who she even talked to. Then again, there really wasn’t anyone she ever talked to. A sense of uneasiness begins to creep into her belly as she remembers their last encounter. She wants to strangle herself for being so annoyingly paranoid but there’s no stopping the thoughts that creep in one after the other. What if she’d made him uncomfortable? Dennis wasn’t normal, he was shy and avoidant, just because they were friends didn’t mean that this still doesn’t apply. In any relationship with another person there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed and Casey is beginning to feel like she’s tap-danced right across it and straight into Dennis’ discomfort zone. Ten minutes has already passed and her phone loudly rings again, the noise sickening to Casey after thousands of mornings waking up to the same sound. There’s no use in laying around in bed now that her mind is racing and she’s wide awake. She decides that she might as well get out of bed and get her day started.  
　　  
　　Her hair is still damp by the time she gets into the truck beside her uncle and anticipation and dread coagulate in her stomach to create a strange, apprehensive feeling. John stuffs the keys into the ignition and cranks it, the engine giving a painful scraping sound without fully starting. John’s head falls back against the seat rest and he sighs with irritation, big chest rising and falling. “What the _hell_ is wrong with this thing now.” He’s pissed and lets his massive hand fall onto the steering wheel. Casey doesn’t know what exactly the sound that came from the engine means, but she _does_ know that she’s going to have to walk to school today. She refrains from saying anything, watching as her uncle inserts the key again and gives it another try. The truck makes a noise that sounds like some sort of injured animal and remains silent, simply gazing at him inquisitively. “Sorry kid but you’re gonna have to fuckin’ walk.” John growls and pulls a small lever that pops the hood before getting out of the truck. Casey waits a moment before grabbing her bag and exiting the vehicle, slinging it over her shoulder. “You’re also gonna walk your ass straight home today, you hear me? No rides.” John looks up from where he’s got the hood open, a sharp look in his eyes. “Okay.” Casey states bluntly and John doesn’t look away. It takes every ounce of strength in her to not roll her eyes at him. “ _Yes sir._ ” She corrects herself and John goes back to his work without a word, Casey turning to head towards the sidewalk. The sky is overcast today and she hopes the rain holds off for just a little bit, until she gets to school at least. Rain is nice, but Casey certainly can appreciate it more when she’s inside of somewhere dry rather than out directly in it getting soaked.  
　　  
　　She makes it to school and tries her best to go about her business without stabbing one of her classmates with a protractor, a task easier said than done. When her second class lets out, Casey feels like she’s able to finally breathe again and quickly leaves the room. She had forgotten all about Dennis after the slight chaos earlier in the morning and she wonders if he’s back at work today. She wonders if she should try and look for him but the thought of it makes her feel a little stalker-ish. Maybe she should just find somewhere to sit and wait for her next class, she’ll run into Dennis sooner or later. Eventually she realizes she’s standing in the hall looking like an idiot and decides to step outside and get away from the noise inside of the school. She’s halfway to one of the exits when she spies Dennis leaving the faculty offices. Casey changes direction having noticed him and goes to catch up to him. “Feeling better?” She asks once she’s a little bit closer and Dennis quickly turns to face her, caught off guard. He realizes it’s just her and stops walking. “Yeah, some.” He clears his throat and tries his best to avoid meeting her gaze. “That’s good. It was weird not having you around yesterday.” Casey says and Dennis shakes his head. “Mmhm.” He fidgets with the cuff of his sleeve, staring down at the floor. Something feels off and Dennis seems more quiet than he usually is, more tense. Casey wonders if he’s busy and she’s getting in the way of him getting his work done. “Am I bothering you?” Casey arches an eyebrow at his unusual behavior and Dennis adjusts his glasses. “No, no you’re not.” His answers are short and curt, even more so than usual.  
　　  
　　Dennis had been anxious since he’d woken this morning. Through the majority of the time he’d known Casey he thought that he could simply set aside his feelings and pretended that they didn’t exist. It’s not exactly lying to her but he still feels wrong for it, like in some way or another he’s deceiving her. It’s not right, being friends with Casey. She trusts him to be a figure in her life that she can rely on for help, not whatever it is that he feels for her. If she knew, she would detest him for the rest of her life. He feels stuck knowing that though he should withdraw from her but he can’t bring himself to push her away. “Sorry, still have a headache from yesterday.” He adds, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s a weak excuse, he knows it. Dennis prays that she’ll find someone better to waste her time on eventually. “Take it easy, you don’t wanna make yourself feel worse.” Casey advises, genuine concern in her voice and Dennis nods silently. It goes quiet between the two and he clears his throat again. “I have some stuff I need to do, I’ll talk to you later.” Dennis turns and starts heading for the exit at the end of the hall. Casey feels a sudden dull stab of anxiety and fears that she’s made him uncomfortable. “Wait- Dennis.” Casey speaks, starting after him. He stops, turning to face her. She pauses carefully before she begins to speak. “Can... I ask you something?” She lowers her voice and Dennis stares down at her with his concrete gaze. “Shoot.” He sounds irritated now and Casey is starting to feel even worse about things. “Have I done something?” She asks and Dennis feels awful. He didn’t mean to make her feel like she’s done anything wrong, especially when he’s the one doing wrong in the first place. He feels a sense of remorse for making her even remotely feel like that. No, she could never do anything wrong, he decides and takes a step backwards. “No. You haven’t.” Dennis assures her in a brusque manner before turning away again. He needs to get away before he says something regrettable, he feels like he’s already obvious enough as it is.  
　　  
　　“Wait, for fucks sake.” Casey is still beside him and catches his wrist with a gentle but firm grip. Dennis halts yet again, his expression clouded with unease. “What?” He snaps, Casey’s forehead creasing with confusion at his reaction. “Seriously, what’s going on? I really feel like.. I dunno.” She sighs and runs a hand through her dark hair before letting go of his wrist. “I just.. Feel like I made you uncomfortable or something the other night.” Casey explains. “You don’t have to lie to me if I did. I just feel like I maybe crossed a line or something with all the stuff I said.” She continues and Dennis feels like he’s being pressed into a corner. “You didn’t.” His voice is tight with anxiety and he averts his eyes from her. “Then what’s wrong?” She asks. Casey cares about his feelings and cares if she’s done something to hurt them, or made him uncomfortable. He’s quiet, breathing a little faster now. Dennis feels like his work shirt is suddenly too tight and his palms are clammy with nervous sweat. “It’s nothing, Casey, please.” He huffs and shakes his head, letting his hand rub the top of his head anxiously. “You can always talk to me if there’s something wrong, you know?” Casey says. She tilts her head a little to get him to look at her, brown eyes soft with concern. “I’m not a good person.” He suddenly blurts out. Dennis wishes he could scoop the words back up and throw them into a furnace but it’s too late and they’re already out there now. Casey looks more confused now than concerned and she doesn’t understand any of it. “What? Sure you are. Why are you saying this?” Casey gives a wary glance over her shoulder to make sure no ones around before stepping a little closer to him. The halls are a little busy and Dennis grasps her shoulder, leading her a little closer towards the doors nearby. It’s a little quieter right here, even if it’s only a few steps away from where they were previously standing. “I’m serious. I’m not.” He reiterates his point and Casey narrows her eyes, irritated. “I’m sorry that you think that, but I really meant all that stuff I said the other night.” She protests. Dennis looks down at the tiled floor. “That’s why.” He says.  
　　  
　　She still doesn’t understand a word he’s saying. “That’s exactly why. Casey, I can’t be a good friend or a good person to you.” He laments and if Casey weren’t confused before, she was now. She cocks her head, perplexed expression fixed firmly on her face as she looks back at Dennis. What was he trying to do by saying all of this? Casey wonders if he views her as a burden, too clingy or too much trouble. She wonders if she should have even said anything in the first place. “I...” He starts speaking and she notices the slightest tremble in his fists clenched at his sides. “I really, really like you.” His voice is a quiet murmur and she blinks, silent. “I mean.. I like you too, I don’t see why you think you’re a bad p-” “No, you don’t understand.” Dennis cuts her off mid-sentence, shaking his head. His whole body burns anxiously and his chest feels like it’s about to swell and burst at any second. “More than that, Casey.” He’s really shaking now and Casey can feel herself starting to turn red. “What?” She’s heard what he said but her brain can’t process the information, her throat feels dry. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He apologizes and Casey finds herself struggling to say something. “...Christ, this is inappropriate, I have to go.” Dennis moves past her and starts walking away again. “Shit, wait.” Casey wants- no _needs_ to tell him how she feels but Dennis ignores her now, his pace brisk and steady. Casey doesn’t want to draw any attention so she lets him go. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, _shit_.” She swears in a quiet whisper under her breath, clasping a hand to her forehead. Why did she just stand there like some sort of idiot when he told her that? Casey feels sick. She could have said something, could have finally told him the truth and now he was gone. The bell gives an electronic toll over the school’s speaker system and it’s already time for her to be at her next class but there’s more on Casey’s mind than school right now. She wants to run down the hallway, grab Dennis and shout at him how crazy she’s felt about him. Hell, Casey just wants to shout in general right now but that would mean even more trouble she’d be getting into. There’s nothing that can be done at this point and Casey knows she has to accept that and be patient until there actually is something she can do. There’s a million things scattered across her mind but she has to get to class, she can’t afford to get hit with more detention.  
　　  
　　The day comes to an end and there’s still no sign of Dennis anywhere. Casey’s been through her day in a complete haze, shockingly compliant with teachers and peers. Her mind’s still fixated on what happened earlier in the day and she feels awful. There’s a whole mix of emotions rushing through her and she struggles to stay calm as she leaves the school building. The rain still seems to be holding off for now, but its not a short walk home and she doesn’t linger. She should have told him earlier, all the way back when they were on the porch. Then he wouldn’t have felt the way he did and everything would be out in the open, exposed. Casey begins her trek home, walking towards the sidewalk in front of the school. He feels the same. She’s surprised to be honest and a part of her feels relieved that he does. She genuinely never expected this. Casey doesn’t realize how fast she’s walking until she feels out of breath and slows down, the rubber soles of her shoes scraping on the sidewalk as she pauses at an intersection, waiting to cross. Casey can’t say that she doesn’t understand his feelings of guilt however, and knew that this would have happened if she had told him either way. The light changes and she proceeds to cross the street. What the hell could she do now? There really was no controlling the situation and she wondered if she’ll ever even talk to Dennis again or if he’ll just avoid her from now on. The thought alone hurts enough. She’ll leave Dennis alone for now and hopefully things will calm down a little bit and both of them will be able to think rationally. Then again, maybe this is already rational thought on Dennis’ part and maybe she’s the one who can’t think for shit. Casey grinds her teeth slowly and tries to wipe her mind of all thoughts of Dennis as she trudges through her yard and up the steps on her porch.  
　　  
　　The house is dark when Casey opens the door and she cautiously listens for her uncle’s usual greeting. It’s quiet in the house and she peeks into the living room, the TV off and silent. She makes her way through the house and into the kitchen where a piece of paper is sitting on top of today’s mail and she investigates it. _’Went to meet up with some old friends, be back tonight.’_ The ink of the pen has bled and feathered in a few spots and she sets it back down where she found it. At least she had the house to herself tonight and John wouldn’t be around to give her shit. Casey abandons her shoes and jacket once she reaches her room and spies the receipt Dennis had written his number on still sitting on her floor. It wasn’t that long ago but she’s already managed to fuck things up for herself, and Dennis is quickly becoming just another thing in her life she’s managed to lose. She bends over and snatches the paper off of the floor, tossing it into the small garbage can underneath her desk without a second thought. The thought of calling him had crossed her mind, but what good would it do? He’d probably just ignore her calls and texts if she tried. Exhausted, Casey sits at the edge of her bed and runs her hands through her hair. It would be better to just try and get on with her evening and hope things smooth themselves over instead of worrying herself to death over things that she can’t control. She wants to desperately tell Dennis that _it’s okay._ She doesn’t hate him for the way he feels, in fact she feels the same way. He might hate himself for the way he feels but she wants to help him get past that. She wonders in the first place if there’s anything inherently wrong about their feelings and she lays back, stretching her arms out above her head. Casey’s eighteen, almost nineteen in a few months, she’s legally an adult now and it’s not a problem past Dennis being an employee of the school. Morally, there’s nothing wrong with it. Sure, the age gap is a little strange but no one’s getting hurt and it’s all legal and fine. People have said awful things about Dennis before and she wonders if it has something to do with it. Just thinking about it pisses her off and she gets up, sliding off of the bed. She’ll take a bath and try to savor her evening home alone until she’s settled down.  
　　  
　　There’s a raw spot on the inside of Dennis’ lip where he’s chewed it and he can taste a tinge of copper any time he pushes his tongue against it. He knows he shouldn’t have said anything to her but he knew he couldn’t hide that from her. One way or another Casey would have found out., Dennis has never been a very good liar. He tosses his keys on the counter as soon as he gets in the door, making his way back into his bedroom to get out of his work uniform. He’s ruined it. Will she even still come to him if she needs help? She won’t trust him now that she knows the truth about how he feels and Dennis fears that she won’t confide in him if there’s any danger at home. He sighs as he unbuttons his shirt, placing it in the laundry hamper in the closet. If he had just shut up, there wouldn’t have been a problem. Emotions are complicated, Dennis’ are no different. There’s a desire instilled in him to protect her still, there always has been since the minute she told him what had happened. There’s no way she’ll ever want to talk to him again after this and Dennis decides that he’ll take the appropriate measures and contact the authorities first thing tomorrow. He knows Casey will detest him even more but it’s his responsibility to get her away from her current situation. He knows that Casey’s scared of the world and all its trials but Dennis understands what it’s like in that situation, he understands everything that she’s terrified of and tries so desperately to avoid. He can recall long nights spent getting paid minimum wage for unsatisfying work, struggling to get hours and struggling to pay rent. It wasn’t until he was actually out of school and was a qualified diesel mechanic that he actually had managed to find steady work. He had left home straight out of high school, anything to get away from his mother and to find a fresh start somewhere else. Transitioning into life on your own is hard but it’s something everyone has to do eventually. Dennis gets that she probably feels like life’s been hard enough already for her and she just wants to try and make it easy as possible, but she’s only making herself hurt more in the process of trying to protect herself. He should have never agreed to keep her secret in the first place. Remorse hangs over Dennis like a thick fog had filled the room and he heads to the bathroom to shower.  
　　  
　　Hours have passed since Casey’s gotten home and there’s still no sign of John. It’s rare to have the house to herself except for times when he works overtime or if he decides to go out with friends and she savors the isolation. She’s standing in the kitchen now, flipping through some kind of garbage hunting magazine that had come in the mail a few days ago while she waits for her instant noodles to finish cooking. Nighttime has settled in and the sun has long since retired behind the horizon. It’s a little easier to think now that she’s had time to settle down and clear her mind. The microwave beeps noisily and Casey goes to open it up, careful not to burn her fingers on the bowl when she pulls it out. She leans over to pick up the little foil packet that has the flavoring when the front door opens with a clatter and a bang against the outside of the house. Dread fills her as she realizes her uncle’s come home and she tries to remain calm, tearing the packet open and giving it a shake. She can just take her food back into her room, letting John have his reign of the house again. There’s no way he won’t be drunk and Casey wants to avoid any sort of contact with him until he’s sober. “Casey? You home?” His words are a little slurred and she winces internally, knowing that she has no choice now but to be social with him. “Yeah, in the kitchen.” She calls across the house, grabbing a fork out of the drawer in the counter. John shuffles into the dining area and Casey watches him cautiously as he approaches her. “Have a nice night?” She asks, testing to see his mood. “I wanna talk to you for a second.” John brushes off her question and she stares at him warily. She doesn’t say anything, simply watches as he sways a little, leaning against the counter. “I’ve been thinking about the other night.” He says. “I’m really sorry about your lip, I shouldn’t have done that.” John’s apologized for his actions many times before but Casey learned long ago that he’s never really sorry for the things he does. He takes a step forward and Casey remains silent, gripping the fork in her hand. “I’m serious.” He’s a lot closer to her now and she doesn’t dare move, fear gripping her. “I won’t do anything like that again, got it?” John swears but she knows it’s an empty promise. She takes a step backwards and John reaches out, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her against him. “C’mere.” He grunts, embracing her.  
　　  
　　John’s been verbally abusive and physically abusive for her entire life. Sexual abuse had been prevalent as well but over the years Casey had managed to escape from it for the most part. This wasn’t good and she knows what comes next. Casey pulls back a little, grip on the fork still tight. “Trying to eat, we can talk later.” She tries playing it off first and hopefully he’ll leave her alone but he pulls her back close to him. “Stop being such an asshole.” He half-jokes with her and she stiffens as she feels his massive hand glide across the small of her back and settle on her rear. Fear spikes in Casey and she wrenches away from him. “I said stop.” Her tone is firm now as she jerks away, a defiant glint in her eyes. John is drunk off of his ass and Casey knows she’s fucked if he gets pissed off. “C’mon Casey.” John tries to coax her again and Casey attempts to move past him and get away when he grabs her firmly by the wrist, skin twisting and burning under his grip. She hisses with pain as he forcefully pulls her towards him and without thinking her free arm swings forward, stabbing him in the side with the fork. She’s not strong enough to actually stick the fork in him or even penetrate the skin, but John still lets go of her reels back, gasping in pain and allowing Casey to escape. “The fuck, Casey?” He exclaims. He’s definitely mad now and starts moving swiftly towards her. She lets the fork clatter to the floor and knows that she can’t hide in her room, he’ll just get inside and get what he wants. She’ll have to just make a run for it. Casey turns around and bolts, running for the front door at full speed. She bursts out onto the porch, letting the door swing back behind her as she darts down the steps of the porch and across the yard, wet grass sticking to her bare feet. John’s too drunk to walk in a straight line, there’s no way he’ll chase her down and the truck is dead again so he won’t be able to chase her down in it this time. She runs, refusing to turn and look behind her. Her feet hit the sidewalk but she continues, concrete rough and harsh on her soles. She doesn’t realize how far or long she’s been sprinting for until there’s a sharp pain of exhaustion in her side and she finally lets herself slow to a halt.  
　　  
　　She bends over in a desperate attempt to catch her breath. Casey feels like she’s going to be sick and she’s not sure whether or not if it was from being out of shape or from what had just happened in the kitchen. Both, most likely. Breathing slowly begins to feel easier again and she straightens her back, assessing the situation. She won’t be able to go home until enough time has passed and hopefully her uncle has passed out. Even then she has nowhere to go and will probably just have to sit out on the sidewalk and hope no one calls the cops on her until she feels safe enough to head home. The thought of Dennis crosses her mind and she remembers his concern when she told him everything, how he’d written his number out and given it to her. There’s no way she could call him now. Tears begin to sting her eyes as things start catching up to her and for once, Casey lets them come. They well in her eyes until her vision turns blurry, the streetlights a muddled mess of orange against the black surroundings of night. She blinks quickly and sighs, an attempt to calm herself down and to assume control of the situation. It doesn’t work and she shivers as quiet sobs begin to escape her. This was fucked, everything was fucked, _life_ is fucked. Shakily, Casey lowers herself to the ground and sits on the curb, legs stretched out into the empty street of her neighborhood. Her quiet sobs eventually subside and she pulls herself together, wiping her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. As if on cue, something small and wet hits her face, then a few seconds later the back of her hand. She gazes up at the heavy clouds above her, glowing an eerie deep orange from the lights of the city that reflect upwards into them. Casey squeezes her eyes shut and though she’s always considered herself a little bit agnostic, she finds herself praying that the rain holds off for just a _little_ longer. As if to answer her, the rain starts falling heavier and faster, fat dark spots appearing beside her on the concrete before it begins to pour in one steady sheet. Casey scrambles upright and tugs her hood up over her head in an attempt to stay dry. “Shit..” She whispers under her breath, eyes scanning around for anywhere she could hide under. All around her are nothing but familiar houses and for a moment she wonders if she could get away with hiding on someone’s porch unnoticed. There was nowhere she could go at this point, returning home would be a death sentence. An idea presents itself to her and Casey hesitates. He might not answer her, but she has to at least try.  
　　  
　　Casey pulls the phone out of the front pocket of her pullover, the rain making it difficult to do anything on the touch screen. Eventually she manages to pull up his contact, thumb hovering over the call button. Maybe he’ll answer, maybe he won’t. She’ll still be stuck out here even if he doesn’t pick up so it’s worth a try, even if the possibility is slim. She presses the button and raises the phone to her ear, listening as it connects then dials. The tone pulses once, twice, three times and then a fourth. There’s no answer, and when it gets to the fifth ring the line goes silent as it cuts to voicemail. Casey ends the call and considers giving up before a wave of determination fills her. One more time. She re-dials his number and presses the phone to her ear, plugging the other one with her finger so she could hear it over the sound of the rain. A deep rumble of thunder rolls in the distance and Casey knows she needs to find somewhere to go soon, even if that means returning home. It rings again, Casey’s mouth feels dry with fear as it approaches the fourth ring. The line goes silent again but this time there’s sound from the other end. “Casey..?” Dennis sounds tired. “Dennis, please. Something happened and... I need you.” She tries her hardest not to burst into tears again as she speaks and she can hear rustling on the other end. “Where are you?” He asks. “I’m down the street like... Five housess down from mine on the sidewalk. I... Didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Casey explains, her voice quiet compared to the rushing sound of rain around her. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m stuck out here.” She attempts to wipe some of the rain from her face. “Slow down, stay where you are. I’ll be there in a second.” Dennis assures her and Casey feels a rush of relief at his words. He hangs up before she can thank him and she puts her phone back in her front pocket before it gets any more wet. It’s a little cold now that she’s wet but she’s thankful at least she has somewhere to go now. It’s a little awkward waiting just in the middle of the sidewalk so she starts walking back to her house. She won’t go all the way back, she’ll just wait out on the sidewalk in front of her house so she’ll be easier for Dennis to find.  
　　  
　　About twenty minutes scrape by and Casey feels anxious. She’s patient but standing in the rain sucks, even though it’s slowed down quite a bit now. A few cars have passed by but none of them belong to Dennis. Eventually after another few minutes pass by, Casey can spy a pair of headlights approaching slowly, eventually stopping a few feet away. She can recognize the vehicle and darts forward, not wanting to waste any more time out in the rain. The passenger door unlocks as she gets closer and she climbs in, soaked. Dennis looks her over, pausing before reaching into the backseat and producing a towel. “Here.” He offers it to her and she gladly accepts it, rubbing the wetness from her face. She runs it through her hair briefly before realizing she’s dripping all over the place and quickly shoves the towel underneath her before she managed to get everything even more soaked. Dennis doesn’t seem to mind at all. The car is silent except for the noise of the rain on the roof and the windshield wipers. “I’m.. Sorry for making you come out here.” She apologizes, voice quiet in the confined space of the car. Dennis is looking at her and she can almost see him processing the words in his mind. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, you don’t need to be sorry.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, if anything.. I should be the one apologizing.” Dennis adds as he turns to put the car in gear, water splashing underneath the tires as he pulls away from the curb. “Besides.. I told you to call me if something happened.” He states quietly and Casey blinks in the darkness. “I feel.. Awful. I made you uncomfortable.” He continues to speak as he drives and Casey shakes her head. “What? No. I was the one who made things weird when I said all that stuff the other night.” Casey says, a drop of rainwater traveling down her forehead and down the bridge of her nose. “Don’t do that.” Dennis says firmly. “You’re not responsible for any of this... I’m responsible for my own feelings.” He explains. Passing streetlamps temporarily bathe the car in pale orange light before fading to darkness again. Casey’s always blamed herself for everything that’s gone wrong, and usually others are quick to join in and blame her as well. To hear Dennis insisting she’s not to blame is strange but welcoming and Casey turns her face to gaze out the window, the car returning to silence.  
　　  
　　Eventually they pull into the familiar parking lot of the complex and Dennis cuts off the engine. He wishes he could find all of the right words to say, anything to ease the situation but there are none. There’s slight hesitation before he exits the car, Casey following behind him. The inside of Dennis’ apartment is warm and welcoming and she’s starting to feel a little bit cold in the wet clothes that cling to her skin. She’s still clutching the towel that Dennis had given her in the car, wrapped around her shoulders comfortingly. Now that they’re in the light of the apartment, she can see that he hastily dressed himself, collared shirt unbutton and thrown on over a soft ribbed undershirt. She’s never seen him unpolished like this and there’s something endearing about his dishevelment. “The bathrooms just in there. I’ll.. Find you something dry.” He gestures towards the bedroom and Casey nods. She makes her way to the room, carpet soft under her feet and she turns to face him when she reaches the doorway of the bedroom. “Dennis?” She asks softly. He looks up at her, hands tucked into his pockets. “..Thank you.” She says, turning to continue back into the bathroom. She hadn’t seen all of his apartment when she’d first been there and seeing Dennis’ room is strange. Everything is still sparsely decorated and impeccably neat except for the bed which appeared to have been hastily made. She wonders if he’d been asleep when she had called him. There’s a single lamp on the nightstand that illuminates the room with a comforting glow and several books stacked neatly on the desk beside a laptop. Other than that, there’s really not much to the bedroom and she can admire the simplicity compared to the mess of clothes and papers that are usually all over her floor. Casey passes through a second door frame into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her before clicking on the light. She looks like a drowned rat, her hair tangled and wet, eyes still puffy a bit from crying earlier. The bathroom is clean like the rest of the house and Casey suddenly feels uncomfortable in her wet clothes. Her sweatshirt comes off over her head and she hangs it over the shower on the bar that the curtain hangs from. She stumbles a bit as she peels her shorts off along with the camisole she had been wearing underneath her shirt. Underwear is the last to come off before finally Casey is free of her burdens, exposed to the cool air of the bathroom. Mirrors aren’t exactly her best friend and she stares at her body for the first time in a while. For years she’s tried to ignore the scars that mar her stomach, shoulders and thighs. Some self inflicted, others not. There are some that are barely visible white marks against the paleness of her belly, others are scrawling hypertrophic beasts with raised edges like a mountaintop. A faint knock at the door jolts her back into reality. “Uh.. I’m going to leave some things for you right here. When you come out I can put your clothes in the dryer.” Dennis’ voice is muffled by the wood of the door. “I’ll wash them for you too.” He adds. “Oh, thanks.” Casey thanks him and waits a little bit until she’s sure he’s gone before cautiously cracking the door.  
　　  
　　There’s no one there and she pulls it open far enough to squeeze her arm through, feeling around until she feels neatly folded clothes underneath her fingers. She grabs them and brings them into the bathroom with her, closing the door carefully behind her. There’s a plain, black t-shirt which she slips on over her head, the soft cotton welcoming on her bare skin. She pulls on the sweatpants next, the legs a little too long and she ties the drawstring as tight as she comfortably can. Now dressed, Casey leaves the bathroom and turns out the light behind her, Dennis standing in the doorway of the bedroom with his back turned to her. “Thanks for the clothes.” She fidgets with the hem of the shirt and he turns to face her once he hears her. “I’m going to put your wet clothes in the wash, then we’re going to talk about this.” Dennis says, his tone firm and serious. She nods and watches as he moves past her before turning and wandering back into his living room, settling on the couch. There’s the sound of water running into the washer and the lid closing before Dennis reappears a minute or two later, sitting opposite of her. “..What happened?” He asks, voice quiet. “My uncle..” She pauses, trying to find the best way to explain things. “He went out with some old friends. Came home drunk.” Casey begins her explanation, thumbs nervously rubbing against one another as she speaks. “He was really, really drunk. I was in the kitchen making kind of a late dinner and...” She trails off, her gaze falling to the floor. “I.. Don’t know.. He just sort of came over and grabbed me.” Dennis’ expression holds a quiet anger in it but he remains quiet, letting her speak. “I pulled away once and he grabbed me again.. He touched me. I tried stabbing him with a fork and ran out the front door.” Casey exhales shakily. “I just kept running. I didn’t really know what to do so.. I called you.” She runs a hand through her hair, doing her best to work out a few of the tangles with her fingers. Dennis is shaking his head, gazing at her. “You can’t go back there.” He says. “You can’t keep living like this Casey, eventually you’ve gotta tell someone.” Dennis presses her with the topic of contacting authorities again. “I can’t do that.” Casey says. She’s defiant regardless of the truth she recognizes in Dennis’ words. “I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have any other family, no money, not even a fucking job.” Her voice shakes a little as she speaks, desperate. “There’s no chance for me out there.” She admits wearily. He rubs the back of his neck before letting his hand fall to his side again. “You have plenty of chances still, Casey.” Dennis pauses, long and thoughtful. “I don’t want you to miss any of them because of fear.” He speaks carefully. “I.. I was too scared, and I missed all of my chances.” Dennis admits, looking away from Casey. “You still have a chance to be happy.” Casey listens to him talk with a hint of disbelief. It stays quiet for a moment before Casey finally speaks. “I don’t know how to do this..” She murmurs. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’m.. Gonna help you.” He assures her. “If your uncle tries to hurt you because of the truth then... I’ll handle it, personally.” Dennis adds and Casey is comforted if not a little amused by the thought. “Look.. You can stay here tonight. I’ll sleep out here on the couch.” Dennis offers. “In the morning, we’re going to work this out.” He adds.  
　　  
　　A sense of ease begins to creep across Casey as the two sit silently. “..Thank you.” She says suddenly, looking up at him. “I’m serious, Dennis. You’ve helped me.. A lot.” Casey pulls her legs up underneath her and leans her head against the back of the couch. “I feel like I’ve only made things worse for you.” Dennis admits after a brief pause and Casey raises a brow. “Your lip.. It wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for me.” He still feels remorse for it, long after her skin had healed. Casey shakes her head. “It would have happened sooner or later, besides it wasn’t the first time he’d done shit like that.” She assures him but Dennis still seems apprehensive. “Besides.. You would have never confronted me about it, and I never would have told you about what happened.” She continues, moving a little closer to him. Dennis tenses. “I wouldn’t have ever found the strength to tell someone.” Casey tucks a strand of damp hair behind her ear. “I’d still be out in the rain if it weren’t for you.” Casey’s always hated it when people say things happen for a reason. When her father died long ago, a few people had told her that it was all for a higher purpose. Casey had been a firm believer that bad things and good things happened for no rhyme or reason whatsoever but the past month or so had definitely been for good reason. Casey’s glad her uncle busted her lip open. She’s glad the truck broke down so many times; she’s glad she didn’t make an excuse to wait somewhere else the afternoon she met Dennis. She would do it all over again if it meant she could live in this very moment. She moves even closer now and Dennis looks like he’s trying to subtly materialize himself into the arm of the couch when she pauses just inches away. “And you know what?” She props herself up by her fist on the couch, arm across Dennis’ torso and parallel to his side. “I like you too.” Her confession escapes her in a quiet whisper and he looks genuinely shocked. “I never thought I would be able to tell you. I wanted to earlier, but you walked off.” She continues, taking his hand in her free one. He apprehensively accepts it, thumb carefully stroking slow circles on the back of her knuckles. There’s several hundreds upon thousands of things he wants to say but none of them can formulate into proper sentences in his mind. He remains quiet. “I don’t know who hurt you, Dennis. But I do know that you can still be happy too.” Her words sting him like pressure being applied to an old wound and he struggles to believe her.  
　　  
　　“You’ve completely changed my life. I’ve only known you for a few months but... I don’t want to be without you now.” She cocks a half-smile and Dennis wants to melt away under the couch. “R.. Really.” It comes out as more of a disbelieving statement than a question. “Really.” She assures him. Casey squeezes his hand softly and he can feel it in his chest, her grip seemingly connected to his heart. He feels vulnerable in front of Casey and it’s a perplexing feeling. Her face is dangerously close to his and this close he can see every smooth detail of her skin, a faded freckle left by the previous summer’s sun, the soft downy fuzz on her jaw. He wants to reach out and touch her, feel the softness of her cheek. “I won’t go anywhere. I promise.” Dennis whispers, staring into her wide eyes. “I won’t either.” Casey promises. She means it, truly and deeply and something inside of her stirs. There’s a faint pause, a hesitation before she slowly moves forward. Time seems to liquefy into nothingness and Dennis can suddenly feel her lips against his, soft and warm on his skin. His thumb has ceased movement and Casey softly squeezes his hand before disconnecting, face still close to his. Her heart is beating hard and she can feel it in her ears and throat, blood rushing to her face with a wave of heat. He’s speechless, jaws slightly parted in an attempt to find words. The feeling that overwhelms him is indescribable and Dennis fights to keep his head on straight; struggles to keep all reasonable thought processes running in his mind. He wants to kiss her again, scoop her into his arms and absorb every bit of her into his being. Dennis reaches up with an unsteady hand and slowly rests it against her cheek, fingers working through her hair to settle against her scalp, thumb resting on her cheekbone. Casey presses against his touch ever so slightly and he feels like at any second he’ll burn up. There’s an unbearable tension that bubbles between them and Casey feels complete ease overtake her. She’s been wanting this for so long. The silence between them is unbearable and Dennis slips his hand away. “You should get some sleep.” His voice sounds choked, Casey still remains only a breath away from him. When she draws away it feels like someone’s pulling a knife out of his chest, slow and painful and he watches as she slips off of the couch. “You’re right. It’s pretty late.” Her cheeks are a little red and Dennis looks away from her, desperately fighting the urge to touch her again. Casey begins to head to the bedroom again before Dennis allows himself to look up at her again. She pauses, hand against the frame of the door before turning around and meeting his gaze. “Goodnight, Dennis.” There’s a calm, quiet smile that he’s never seen on her before and the feeling of affection that rises in him threatens to suffocate him. “Sleep well.” He responds, watching as she hesitates. “I love you.” She turns away and disappears into the next room as soon as the words leave her and Dennis is left in quiet shock. Love. Something completely alien to Dennis, something strange and incomprehensible, unintelligible. He doesn’t understand it but he feels it, stronger than anything he’s ever felt before. Stunned, Dennis slowly leans against the back of the couch, silent.  
　　  
Casey turns off the lamp once she reaches the side of the bed and pulls back the duvet before crawling under the covers. The bed is welcoming and warm and she feels herself sink comfortably against the mattress. She’s still burning red and a little shocked by how bold she had been but it feels good to be honest, open. All around her is the soft smell of Dennis, against his pillow, his sheets, his shirt, everything. It may be only temporary, but Casey could live in this moment until the end of days. For the first time in a very very long time, perhaps the only time, Casey closes her eyes and feels surrounded by nothing but pure, unadulterated happiness. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY guys sorry this took me SO long to get out i have had a lot of stuff going on with work. hope it's worth the wait for you guys though <3 next chapter hopefully shouldn't take me as long to get out, it's already in the works.
> 
> WARNING. this chapter will have some mentions of abuse, theres some NSFW-ness and violence ahead. a little bit of everything in this chapter lmfao its a damn mess
> 
> find me on tumblr: http://www.bornslippey.tumblr.com

There’s a faint noise that draws Casey from the depths of sleep.  Her face feels warm and when she opens her eyes she’s met by the sunlight that filters in through the blinds over the bed.  She rolls over onto her other side when she hears the sound again.  Her phone is vibrating noisily on the nightstand and she sits up, glancing at the clock with confusion.  The clock reads 12:37 and Casey feels a little bit shocked that she even managed to sleep in that much.  Just how late were they up last night?  Casey picks up her phone to investigate who’s calling her.  John’s contact name is bright on the screen and she can feel fear twist her stomach like a fist.  She waits until the phone stops ringing, letting it carry over to voice mail.  

 

12 missed calls since 6 that morning.

24 new texts.

 

Nervously, Casey unlocks her phone to read what he’s sent her, no doubt a result of his poor self-control and drastic anger issues.  Her hands quiver ever so slightly and she tries to control her nerves; she’s safe here, John doesn’t even know who she’s with and even if he did, he wouldn’t know where Dennis lives.  He won’t be able to come after her.  She sighs before opening her messages.

 

_’where the fuck are yuo’_

_‘*you’_

_‘casey’_

_‘Who are you with? Pick up the phone’_

_‘casey I’ll call the damn cops if I have to. Pick up your phone.’_

 

The messages make her burn with a nauseating anxiety and she sets her phone face-down on the bed, leaving it as she swings her legs over the edge.  Lying in bed seems unbearable at this point and she stretches once she’s standing.  It’s then that she notices her clothes at the end of the bed, now clean and neatly folded with a small piece of paper sitting on top.  Inquisitively, Casey takes a step and picks up the piece of paper.

 

_’Had to work. I’ll be back in the afternoon._

_Food is in the fridge, if you’d like.’_

 

She’d completely forgotten about school and she tries to imagine the trouble she’ll be in for skipping out on yet another day.  A part of her wonders that if it will even matter anymore after this.  Casey’s not really even sure what’s to happen from here on out, she’s never been in this kind of situation before and it’s not as simple as calling CPS and immediately getting out of there.  Especially now that she’s legally considered an adult.  Anxiety rises sharply in her as she remembers her situation- no job, no money, nowhere to go.  

 

Dennis had offered to help her but she knows that that offer only goes so far.  There’s only so much a person can do for another.  She wonders how far the offer actually does go.  Casey sets the note back down on the bed and grabs her clothes, heading back into the bathroom.

 

Water running and Dennis’ clothes now stripped off of her, Casey takes a careful step into the shower.  It’s immaculately clean like the rest of his house and she’s not surprised by this.  The water still feels nice on Casey’s skin, warm and refreshing and she feels herself beginning to relax a little bit.  Thoughts of her uncle threaten to return but she forces them away from her mind, struggling to remain at ease.  A few minutes pass before the steam and heat of the shower become overwhelming and unbearable and Casey switches off the shower and steps out into the cool air.

 

Now dressed in her own clothes, she feels a bit like an intruder in the quiet apartment.  Though it’s starkly decorated and deathly silent, there’s a strange subtle sense of comfort held in between the walls.  Not exactly warm, but still welcoming in its own strange sense.  She feels safe, hidden away from the rest of the world and John in the safety of Dennis’ home; A refuge, even if temporary.

 

There’s a few oranges in the fridge and Casey takes one, carefully peeling it and setting into it while scrolling through her phone.  The texts and calls from John seem to have slowed to a halt and she’s thankful for this, yet there’s a looming fear that threatens to overwhelm her.  What if he did call the police?  If he somehow figured out she was with Dennis? Paranoia quickly begins to set in and she finds it hard to swallow.  All he knows is his name, and Casey is here on her own accord, so could they really put Dennis in any sort of trouble?  Her brows furrow at the prospect of him losing his job, chest swimming with guilt.  She doesn’t want him to have to go through any of that, and part of her wonders if she should just walk home and turn herself into John and face the consequences.

 

No, not a chance.  

 

There’s no running away from things this time, she decides as she tosses the peel from the orange into the garbage can, careful to be sure that there was no mess left behind.   It’s scary, but there’s still a swell of certainty that this is the right thing to do and that she needs to keep trusting Dennis’ advice.  For a second, Casey looks up from her phone and gazes out of the glass doors across the living room and contemplates where things will be in a year.  She’s not really even sure where they’ll be in a week, or even another 24 hours.  Chewing her lip, her thoughts flit like a projector to the night before.  Did she really do that?  

 

Her skin stings with embarrassment and she wonders what demon crawled out of hell and made her say any of those things that she had said or done last night.

 

 _’I love you.’_ That was what she’d said, right?  She desperately tries to recall, hoping that the memory is some kind of illusion, remnants from a dream nights ago that her brain has translated into a memory.  She tries, but knows that it’s true and she can still recall the familiar feeling of Dennis’ soft lips against hers, the warmth of his face next to hers, the weight of his hand resting on her cheek.  He hadn’t said anything in return and she feels unsure if that’s just because of his typical disposition or if she really did make a fool out of herself.  She’d meant it though, and she begins to feel like maybe that’s actually worse than saying it without even meaning it at all.  

 

Even though things are out in the open between them now, no more secrets, she still can’t help the suffocating feeling that it’s all out of place, all wrong.

 

With a heavy sigh and the first signs of an oncoming headache, Casey settles into the couch.  Relationships aren’t her forte, if one could even call this a relationship, let alone one with as many complications as this.  She’s usually never like this, Casey has always been known for her level-headedness and cool practicality.  These qualities feel absent lately.  

 

She picks up the remote and switches on the TV, idly scrolling through channels in an attempt to find something interesting.  Sure, she wasn’t a complete stranger to these things.  However, they had never gone beyond anything physical, emotions absent in the presence of touch.  The others had all just been mere distractions, entertainment to draw her out of the hell her home life had been.   His kindness isn’t lost on Casey and she feels undeserving of it, even if he claims it’s only doing the right thing.  She’s never been a bad person, but she’s also never been exceptionally good either.  If Casey believed a little more that someone would be listening, she’d send a prayer full of thank-yous.  She doesn’t, remaining quiet instead.

 

Time passes by at an excruciatingly slow pace and the sun eventually begins to make it’s descent by the time it hits 5:00.  There’s not a lot to actually do in the apartment except for endless re-runs of ‘How I Met your Mother’ or grating soap operas, which she watches regardless of her disinterest.  The sound of keys in the deadbolt of the door sends a spike of nerves through Casey and sends her scrambling to sit upright on the couch.  She clicks the TV off as he comes in through the door, watching as he carefully wipes his feet on the mat outside before stepping all of the way inside.   

 

“Sorry, I tried getting off early but..” He shakes his head.  “There were a lot of work orders today.”

 

Casey smiles warmly and shakes her head.  “It’s fine.” She assures him and Dennis feels a surge of relief.  He hadn’t been able to shake the unbearable itch to get back home and check on her, finally get her situation sorted out.  The lady in charge of management had looked honestly shocked when he of all people had asked if he could go home early, unable to approve his request from the backlog of things that needed to be done.  

 

Her eyes follow him as he slips out of his chore coat and neatly folds it in half over his forearm, glancing over the rim of his glasses at her.  “Um.. I figured that..” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I figured that we could go by your house, let you get your things.” Dennis seems hesitant to explain the idea and Casey nods slowly.  “Don’t worry, I’m gonna come in there with you.” He can already feel her concerns and he understands the certain fear that comes with the situation.  She feels a little more at ease with the assurance that he’ll be with her but anxiety still prickles in her like static.  

 

“When did you want to go?” She asks, looking away.

 

He takes several steps closer to her.  “Only when you’re ready.” Dennis won’t push her into this faster than she can handle, but she knows that it needs to happen.  Casey can remember a particularly painful cavity that she had as a child.  She’d put off going to the dentist for so long out of fear that when John had finally managed to drag her there, the pain of having actually just gotten the cavity filled would have been preferred.  Casey had quickly learned that sometimes it’s just better to get the painful parts over with as fast as one could.  “Now?” She asks suddenly, looking back up at him.  

 

Dennis arches a brow, a look of genuine surprise assuming his expression. “Right now?” He tries to confirm, tilting his head down.  Casey nods her head.  “If it’s not a problem.  Figured we could just… I dunno.” She twists a strand of her hair around her finger tight enough that it turns the skin purple.  “I figured we should just get it over with, right?” Casey untwists her hair, glancing back up at Dennis.  His keys are still in hand, and they probably should go before it gets dark.  “Sure.” He answers.

 

The temperature outside has dropped dramatically, the first real cold snap they’ve had in a little while and she shivers as the wind brushes against her cheeks.  Dennis doesn’t fail to notice this, and once they’ve made it into the car he’s sure to turn the heat on for her, passing her his coat despite the fact she’s already wearing a hoodie.  The gesture is well-received, a faint smile settling on her mouth.

 

“I feel like I have to warn you..” Casey breaks the silent that had been filling the car for the past few minutes while they drove.  Dennis stays quiet.  “He’s gonna be really pissed off.  I don’t know what he’ll do, or what he’s already done.” She continues.  “He sent me a bunch of angry texts this morning once he figured out I didn’t come home last night.” She seems anxious and uncertain, but he’s been preparing for the worst for a while now, having heard of Uncle John’s untethered wrath.  “He even threatened to call the cops or something.” There’s a faint huff of nervous laughter after she speaks.  “Even though he’s the only one that’s done anything wrong.” Her voice is flat, her usual quiet tone holding a faint hint of bitterness.  Dennis understands.

 

It’s already dusk by the time they pull up in front of the house and Dennis kills the engine, glancing over at Casey.   She’s good at not advertising her emotions freely on her expression like most people but now there’s a tiny imprint of fear in her eyes when she looks back at him.  It’s not vulnerable fear, but more akin to a cornered animal, raw and feral.  “I’ll be with you the whole time… Okay?” Dennis tries weakly to reassure her and she remains quiet.  There’s a brief pause before she opens the car door and he follows suit.

 

Not even half way up the lawn, Casey stops dead in her tracks when she sees the front door open, the screen door’s familiar clatter against the outside of the house resonating in her ears.  

 

John stands on the porch, eyes dark with a hungover rage.  Dennis keeps walking, making his way up the few stairs onto the porch.  She falls in behind him, remaining close to his side.  

 

“I don’t know who the fuck you exactly think you are.” John’s voice is angrier than usual, a seething hiss of malignity.  Dennis glances at John, remaining silent before turning to Casey.  “Go on.  I’ll wait out here.” He instructs.  John turns to face her as she pushes past him into the house but she’s gone inside before he can say anything.  “Explain this.” John demands once again and Dennis crosses his arms.  “She’s just getting a few things, then we’re leaving again.” Dennis states plainly.  A vein is quite visible in John’s cheek now and he takes a single step forward.  Dennis doesn’t move.  “You really think that? She’s not going anywhere.  You’re seriously fucked up if you think you can just take her out of my home like this.” He hisses.

 

Another step forward.  Dennis stays put, it’s an impossible struggle to refrain from saying anything.

 

Casey grabs her bag off of the floor once she reaches her room, yanking open a few of her dresser drawers and grabbing a few necessities before getting dressed into some actual clothes.  There’s not a lot that she needs and she doesn’t want to linger here any more than she has to, wasting no time shoving her feet into her shoes and walking briskly back to the front door.  

 

Dennis watches as Casey approaches the doorway, emerging from the dim light of the house and into the dusky evening sunlight.  All three remain quiet, only the sound of a barking dog a few houses down and the drone of a distant lawn mower fill the air.  When she goes to move past her uncle and start towards the car, she feels a massive hand wrap around her upper arm. Her eyes go wide with the sudden sensation of being yanked back and she stumbles over her feet as John pulls her.  “Stop.  You’re not going anywhere.” His tone is firm, a threat.

 

Dennis’ body starts to move on it’s own accord, as if he was possessed by some angry demon. He steps forward, grabbing John by the collar of his shirt when the larger man grabs Casey.  His fists tremble, gripping the fabric beneath his tightened knuckles.  “Don’t touch her.” He warns.  Dennis is much smaller in comparison to the massive boulder of a man that is Casey’s uncle and he watches as John gives Casey a firm shove away from him, releasing her from his grip.  Dennis can’t really process it all as it happens, the sensors in his brain only recognizing a flash of hard pain and then the hot, wet gush of blood that bursts down his upper lip and chin.  
 

His disgust is quickly replaced by rage, recoiling from the blow.  Hunched slightly, his eyes dart to Casey who stares at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape with a mixture of shock and fear.  Dennis delicately touches just under his nose, which bleeds more than freely now.  “You do realize I raised this girl, right?” John gestures towards Casey, his right knuckles are smeared with translucent red.   “There’s no one left in this goddamned world that can take care of her.” He continues, taking a step towards him.  “No one wanted to step up and take care of her, so I did. I worked _so_ hard to give this girl a good life, and here you are trying to fuck it up.” His anger is beginning to swell now and Dennis pulls himself up a little straighter as John steps closer to him. The larger man raises a single index finger and points it at him accusingly.  “I don’t know who the hell you think you are.  So stay away from my niece, you sick _fuck_.” His voice is a violent hiss, only inches away from Dennis now.  

 

Dennis’ mind stumbles over itself, senses dulled by white hot anger that burns in his head.  It’s like there’s a thousand tiny voices that all scream at him what he should do, all different suggestions. He wants to yell at John, he wants to strangle every last inch of life out of him. The fact that he could even think he’s provided something decent for Casey makes him burn. There’s a silence that falls, full of violent tension before John turns back to Casey.  “Go and get back inside the house.” He says, pointing to the ajar door.  Casey is silent and looks at Dennis. She’s unsure of what she should actually do. Dennis’ chest tightens and he can feel the careful grip he keeps on his temper completely slip away.  He moves forward, guided by instinct and his fist burns with pain when he strikes John; A well placed blow to the larger man’s abdomen that elicits an angered shout of pain from him.  

 

Everything happens in a flash and Casey stares, wide-eyed and dumbfounded as John shoves Dennis to the ground with ease.  There’s nothing that she can do and she’s not about to try and pull either one of them off of the other unless if she wanted a bloody nose too.  Call the police? Say something? What is there to even say besides stop?  Her mind races for some kind of solution, anything at this point.  Fear envelops her, like some sort of invisible chain keeping her glued to her spot on the porch.  She hadn’t even realized she’d dropped her bag until she hears the thud of it on the wooden floor.

 

John has Dennis pinned down against the lawn, one hand easily wrapped around his neck, the other removes his glasses and tosses them over his shoulder.  “You wanna start this kind of shit?” John looks possessed, limbs and face red with exertion.  “You wanna fuck with me?” He continues.  Dennis’ arms move to grab, scratch, anything, but John quickly pins them down by the crook of his elbow under his massive hands.  

“People like you piss me the fuck off.  I don’t even know what the hell you think you’re doing. I can’t even begin to imagine what the fuck is going on in that bald ass head of yours.” He snarls.  Dennis stares up at him, expressionless. “People like me?” He asks. “It’s people like _you_ who piss me off…” Dennis pauses, watching as confusion captures John’s features. “It’s people like you who think that they can just take what they want from helpless people, people like you who abuse their position so they can hurt kids.” He continues, voice rising.  Casey’s never heard him speak anything over his normal tone and quiet murmurs, this was something completely and terrifyingly unlike him.  

 

Angry.  

 

Confrontational.

 

“You didn’t even try to give her a good life. You didn’t do shit except give her a bed to sleep in.” Johns eyes widen as he speaks, brows knitting together.  “I wish I knew what was going on in your head every single time you tried to touch her.” Dennis hisses.  John turns to look at Casey.  “What the hell is he talking about Casey?’ He threatens, momentarily letting the pressure on Dennis’ arms slip.   “What the hell did you tell hi-” Dennis suddenly wrenches forward, freeing one of his arms and striking John across the face.  The larger man recoils, clutching at his face with bloodied hands. “ _Fuck you._ ” Dennis’ growls, exasperated.

With a shove, he pushes John off from on top of him and rises to his feet unsteadily before turning to look at Casey. His head is pounding.  
   
She studies him, his lithic expression, the dried blood on his face and the fresh that trickles from a split above his brow.  Dennis is breathing heavily, chest swelling then falling as he tries to catch his breath. He weakly brushes some of the dead grass that’s stuck to his shirt off of him before casting a glance back to John who rests on his hands and knees, one hand clasped over the eye Dennis’ fist had caught.  “…Both of you.” John finally manages to hiss, staggering to his feet in one fluid, heavy motion.  “Get the fuck out of my yard.”

 

Casey doesn’t waste any time.

 

She stumbles a little trying to get down the stairs and over to Dennis who still stands, motionless.  “You’re going to regret everything.”  John grunts.  “After all I’ve done for you, Casey.  All we’ve been through together, and you choose to do this to me?” He continues.  He takes a few steps after Casey but stops when Dennis halts and turns around, a warning not to come any closer.  “You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” John casts a glance back towards them before turning, trudging back through the lawn and up onto the porch.  He disappears into the house, slamming the front door behind him.

 

She doesn’t realize she’s been standing there like an idiot until Dennis puts his hand on her shoulder, bringing her back into the present.  There’s a sudden sense of unease that washes across Casey like a landslide and she wonders if he might be right. She wonders if she’s making the biggest mistake of her life by doing this, wonders if she really was just crawling from one fire to the next.  Was she really doing the right thing? Casey takes a few careful steps after Dennis who opens the car door for her, taking her backpack and putting it in the backseat.  

 

The ride home is quiet, unbearably so.

 

“I’m sorry.” Dennis finally says when they pull into the apartment complex.  It’s a miracle that they made it back in one piece, he can hardly see without his glasses let alone drive.  Casey remains quiet, looking back towards him.  He’s sure he looks like some sort of crazed murderer with the amount of drying blood on his face, dead grass stuck to his shirt and pants.  “None of that should have happened.” He adds, quieter now.   There’s a heavy sense of remorse in his words and she turns away again.  He’s right, it shouldn’t have happened at all but was it really his fault?  She shakes her head, inhaling slowly.  “No.  I shouldn’t have ever told you.” Casey states.  

 

“He’s wrong.” Dennis firmly grips the steering wheel with one hand, reflecting back on John’s words.  “He might be trying to convince you that you did the wrong thing, or made a terrible choice.” He continues, cautiously.  “Someone tried to do the same to me, a long time ago..” Casey blinks, studying his expression.  He looks pained, something a little more beyond physical.  “I can’t promise you that you’ll be successful, Casey.  I can’t promise you that you’ll always be happy in life.” He spills, running a hand across his forehead.  

 

“But what I can promise you,” Dennis turns to face her now.  “You will _never_ regret walking away from this.” There’s a pause and Casey feels a dull ache in her chest.  “Sometimes.. you might.  Some nights you’ll think back and think maybe you were better off just staying and dealing with things,” She’s never heard him say this much ever before today and is a little surprised at the raw sincerity in his tone, the disparity from his usual withdrawn demeanor.

 

He pauses again, swallowing.  The tang of blood in his mouth and throat is absolutely overwhelming right now but he can ignore it; he can ignore the blood and sweat and dirt clinging to him if only to convey this across to her properly.  “You’ll still hurt from things that have happened in the past… But I think that time will help with that, a little.” Casey knows he speaks not only from his heart but experience, and she’s not sure if she’s aching for her self now or for Dennis.  “But you’ll _never_ have to go through any of it ever again.” His chest is rising and falling a little faster than normal.

 

She believes him, as much as she can.  John had mistreated her, abused her and hurt her relentlessly for the majority of her life.  One would think it would be easy to just throw that kind of person away, but she can still recall sweeter times with her uncle as well.  Things are not always as black and white as they may seem and Casey slowly comes to the realization herself.  “It’s not easy to let go sometimes.” Dennis murmurs, quiet again.

 

Casey’s mouth twitches and a soft sigh escapes her.  “Well, there’s no going back at this point.” She says, glancing out the window.  “It’ll get a little easier now, right?” Casey tucks a familiar, stubborn strand of hair away behind her ear.  “Eventually.  It might get a little harder first.” Dennis responds, cautioning her.  He doesn’t know what’s ahead for her and it could be difficult.  There’s nothing that he won’t do to make the process easier for her and he abides by that, the strong feeling that resides in his chest.  It’s a mix of things, anger, passion, the need to protect, and something much softer than all of these things.

 

He might be able to label it as love.  He’s not sure.

 

“I’ll… I’ll be with you, through whatever happens after this.” Dennis clears his throat and his face feels hot, which he blames on his injuries.  “We can work through this together.” Casey suddenly moves, resting her hand on his.  He’s not really sure what to do, isn’t sure if he should move or not.  “Thank you.”  Casey’s voice finally finds itself, small and soft.  “I mean it.  I…” She pauses.  “I think it’ll be okay.” There’s a subtle sense of contentment in her voice.

 

Dennis’ pain doesn’t make itself apparent until once they’re actually inside of the apartment, his expression twisting a little bit when he comes in through the front door. It’s a miracle he hadn’t broken anything when John had practically thrown him off of the porch. Casey notices him heading for the bathroom and sets her bag down.  “Let me help you.” She says, following behind him.  He shakes his head, silent.  “I can do it.” Dennis affirms, pulling open the drawer that’s set in the bathroom counter and pulling out a washcloth along with a bottle of rubbing alcohol which he sets on the faux granite.

 

 “Of course you can, but let me.” Casey says, touching his shoulder gently.  It twitches underneath her fingertips.

 

“C’mon.  You’ve done too much today.” She adds, eager to convince him.  Eager to help.  Reluctantly, he turns and faces her, leaning his lower back against the counter to help make things a little easier for her.  Casey switches on the tap, letting the water run over her fingers until she feels that it’s warm enough before soaking the cloth. 

 

Carefully, so as not to hurt him, she begins dabbing at his face to wipe some of the dry blood away.  “I gotta admit,” She begins.  “You look kind of badass like this.” Casey states in her quiet, dry sense of humor.  Dennis doesn’t say anything in return, only winces when she runs the cloth along the slight abrasion along his jaw.   She takes extra care to make sure there’s no residue from the blood left, remembering his sensitivities.  “I’m sorry about your glasses.” The memory of John throwing the already cracked lenses over his shoulder, no doubt lost somewhere in the grass in the front lawn.

 

He seems to realize something when she mentions it.  “It’s fine- actually, I have some spares.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I… Do you think you could get them for me?” Dennis asks and Casey nods.  “I’m sorry, I would but- They’re somewhere in the desk drawer in the bedroom and I can’t really see that well.” He begins to apologize and she simply waves him off.  “It’s fine, I can get them for you.” She assures him and disappears into the dim light of the bedroom.  

 

The bulb in the desk lamp clicks when she switches it on, pulling open the drawer.  Everything is just as well-arranged as the rest of his life, a few pens, a stack of index cards.  She pushes her hand deeper into the drawer feeling around after what she was looking for.  Casey feels her fingertips brush against a glossy surface, a thin piece of paper catching on the edge of her thumb.  Confused, she pulls it out and examines it.  It’s a photograph, the edges a little worn and the colors subtly faded by time.  A boy stands in a garden underneath a small magnolia tree, dark curls being pushed by a faint breeze.  His expression is hard and surly, eyes cast somewhere beyond the camera’s lens.  Beside him stands an older woman, arm around his shoulder in a display of familial affection, her unruly hair pulled back into a loose half-bun.  

 

Their facial features are startlingly similar despite also vast differences, clearly related.  It dawns on Casey that she’s looking at a picture of a much younger Dennis and his mother- perhaps grandmother? An aunt?  She wonders how old he was in this photo and she turns it over to see if any information had been written on the back.  Blank.  He looks no older than ten and she wonders how old the photo is, who the woman is.  Maybe she’s dead?  In another state?  She glances back down and notices an oblong case poking out from deeper in the drawer before quickly putting the picture back where she found it.  

 

There’s a growing curiosity in Casey but she decides against asking any questions, coming back into the bathroom with the glasses case in hand.  She hands them to Dennis without saying anything, only a soft noise of affirmation when he thanks her.

 

“Do you have any band aids?” She asks, popping the medicine cabinet on the wall open.  “Should be in there.” He answers with evident exhaustion in his voice.  It’s easy enough to find them and Casey sets the box out on the counter before picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol before and unscrewing the cap.  Careful not to spill any, she presses the cloth to the opening and tilts the bottle slightly, letting the cloth absorb some of the liquid.

 

When she presses the cloth to the raw spot on his jaw, some of the alcohol pools and runs down his neck, soaking into the collar of his shirt.  “Shit- sorry.” She says, wiping at it with the dry part of the cloth.  The front of his shirt is already spattered and soaked in a few spots with still-damp blood, a darker shade of navy against the starched fabric.  He shakes his head.  “It’s fine, I’m throwing it away regardless.” Dennis says, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the dampness of his own blood being pressed against his chest.

 

He reaches up with careful fingers and begins to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time.  Casey isn’t sure where to look exactly and glances around the bathroom, still clutching the alcohol-soaked cloth a little awkwardly in her hand.  The mirror is exceptionally clean, the grout in the shower wall is spotless.  His undershirt is also soaked with blood, just a bit around the collar and some where it soaked through from the fabric above and much to Casey’s surprise, he removes it as well.  

 

The skin he reveals is incredibly smooth, a stray freckle notes itself here and there across his upper arms and shoulders.  She can’t help but admire the subtle, smooth swell of his chest muscles, the subtle indentations just above his clavicle.  Dennis seems more concerned with freeing himself from the bloodied clothing than concealing himself.  Once he’s finished folding the clothes, he crosses his arms, looking back at Casey who tries to hide her awe.

 

The wounds burn with a faint, dull sting as she cleans them.  It’s a welcome feeling to Dennis, the sting is a sign that the alcohol is working, disinfecting the cuts.  The cloth is now soaked and stained with blood by the time she’s finished cleaning him up and she rests it on the edge of the sink before moving on.  

 

The wrapper is a little difficult to open but soon enough Casey peels the clear adhesive from it’s casing, moving closer to Dennis.  She’s dreadfully close and he turns his gaze to the tiled floor, ignoring the ache from the cut on his forehead when she applies the small bandage to it.  “You okay?” She asks.  There’s only one other cut on the bridge of his nose but it’s small and looks like it will heal well enough on it’s own.  This close to him she can feel the gentle heat that radiates off of his chest and he nods, slowly, looking back up into her brown gaze.

 

“Mmhm.” He answers, softly.  Dennis looks a little flustered.

 

  “I’m so sorry for pulling you into all of this.” Casey murmurs, fingertips resting against the soft skin of Dennis’ pectoral.  He’s tense underneath her touch, even though gentle and he shakes his head softly.  “I wanted to help you.” He says, gently taking her hand into his own.  His knuckles are bruised, but the skin on them remains intact and unbroken.  Casey tries to blink away but can’t take her eyes away from his own, the warmth from his hands and his guarded blue stare keeps her locked in.  

 

She can’t imagine why anyone would _willingly_ get involved in her bullshit, especially with a situation as delicate as hers.  They’re not even fully out of the woods yet, they’ll still have to make a police report and then figure out where Casey goes from there.  There’s a sad feeling that suddenly settles on her like a blanket when she realizes that she probably won’t see Dennis again once everything’s said and done.  The realization isn’t new to her, in the beginning she knew eventually she would graduate and forget about him.  That was in the beginning though, back when everything was still complicated yet not as deep as it was now- she loves Dennis now, truly.  

 

“I probably won’t see you again after this, will I?” It’s a statement more than a question.  Dennis is quiet and she can tell that he’s thought about this too.  His grip on her hands loosens a little but he doesn’t completely let go, gaze drifting away.  “I don’t know.  You might.” He’s a realist, always has been and he’s thought about all the possibilities from the start.  He doesn’t know what will happen to Casey, if she’ll stay in town, if she’ll move.  If it were up to him, things would be different.  As much as Dennis tries not to be selfish, he can’t help but wish that there was some way that she could stay.  He wants to lock her away from the rest of the world if he could and she would never have to worry about what she’s been through again.

 

He glances back up to her.  “It’s probably better for you if you didn’t.” He gives one of her hands a sad squeeze.  Dennis knows it’s probably better if she found someone more like herself.  A little more outgoing, a little less plagued by obsessions and intrusive thoughts, a little less not in his mid 30s.  He’s not really sure if he could handle her being with someone else; the thought alone makes his chest burn with solicitude.  What if someone else mistreated her?  Dennis is more than well aware that he’s not the only one who could keep her safe.  He wants to be.  

 

“I’d like to.”

 

He looks back up to her as she speaks, the soft grit of her voice drawing him out of his thoughts.  She might want to now, but once she got out and expanded her world a little more she would definitely start to see him differently.  Perhaps the only reason she feels this way towards him now is because he’s the only one who’s ever showed her this kind of kindness before.  He’s the only one who’s ever helped her.  Dennis suddenly feels cold and he’s not sure if it’s from the lack of clothing or from his revelation.  “You’d change your mind, eventually.” He’s not trying to argue with her.  Casey frowns, it’s a subtle expression but still evident on her features.

 

“Maybe so, anything’s possible.” Casey says.  Her hand still rests on his chest, like a hot piece of iron that threatens to melt right through his skin.  He’s still not used to her touching him, isn’t sure if he ever _could_ be.  “I don’t really change my mind about things though.” She adds.  “I’ve never really ever had friends before, let alone anyone like you.” Are they friends?  It’s just a little bit more complex than that.  Dennis is quiet, moving to touch her hand as if to pull it away.  Instead he hesitates, grasping it in his palm.    

 

 “You don’t want this.” He warns.

 

Her expression remains neutral.  “Do you?” She asks him.  He doesn’t realize he’s still gripping onto her hand until she’s pulling it away gently.  It’s not a negative gesture and he watches as her hand falls to her side.  His mind claws for an answer.  He does want this, but knows that he shouldn’t.  At this point he’s probably doing more harm than good and he knows that any decent, good person would say no; they wouldn’t want this.

 

“Yes.” He whispers, like the breath is being squeezed out of him.

 

She says nothing.  Dennis grips the edge of the counter with a clammy palm, the silence is crushing.  “Then take my word for it when I say that I want this too.” She’s pulled a little further back, only half of an inch but it feels like miles to him.  Casey can sense his hesitation towards his own emotions and perhaps even a sense of regret that he holds.  “It’s okay.” She assures him gently.  Dennis gazes down at her, she’s still so close to him.

 

He forces himself to move away, wordless as he moves into the bedroom to retrieve a shirt.  Casey hesitates a moment before turning, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom to watch him as he sits on the edge of the bed.  She watches as he pulls the undershirt over his head before taking a few cautious steps to where he sits, settling next to him.  “Dennis.” He looks at her in the dim light of the room when she says his name.  “If this bothers you this much, I’ll go somewhere else.” She offers.  There’s really not really anywhere else for her to go except for back home, but maybe she could call someone from the school and figure something out.  She could make the police reports on her own.  Casey is no stranger to having to handle things by herself, this would not be the first time.

 

There’s a faint feeling of hurt that worms its way through her at the thought.  He’d come this far, they both had invested mutual trust in each other.  It was obvious from the start, even before everything was out in the open that the feelings between them were going to cause problems.  Casey blames herself, blames herself for everything.  She should have never done any of the things she did, should have told him to leave her the fuck alone all those weeks ago.  It was stupid of her to let herself get this invested into someone when it had been unrealistic all along.  Her expression hardens with the realization.

 

Dennis looks a little bit shocked at her suggestion and shakes his head, adjusting his glasses.  “What?” He’s a little bit surprised.  Crushed, almost by her suggestion.  “No, Casey..” Dennis stammers, searching for the right words to say.  Is he too much?  Is he pushing her away unintentionally or is this her way of getting away from him, by making it seem like she’s doing him some kind of favor?  “Look… I’m sorry.” He finally says, running a hand across his scalp.  “I’m just… Not used to any of this.” This is weird.  He doesn’t think he’s ever opened up this much to anyone before, even if it is as something as small as telling her how he feels.  There’s no more beating around the bush at this point and it feels foreign that he doesn’t have to hide from her.

 

“You think I am?” Casey says, tilting her head.  “This isn’t exactly an every day sort of situation, you know.” She adds.  “Look, I’m not trying to pressure you when I offered to leave.” Casey explains.  She shifts, placing her palms on her knees.  “I don’t want you to feel like you have to…” A frustrated sigh escapes her.  “I don’t know.  I didn’t want you to feel like we have to be anything in particular.” She’s not really quite sure if he’ll understand, she’s always been bad at explaining herself.  Dennis is quiet but eventually nods slowly.  “I don’t feel pressured.” He says.  “I.. I want you.  To stay, I mean.” The last part is added on quickly, even though the statement would have still been true without it.  “You don’t have to leave.”

 

Casey nods slowly as if she’s still processing what he’s said.

 

“I haven’t ever really felt like this.” Dennis confesses.  He’s not looking at her, gaze affixed on the floor where it’s safe.  “You’re… special.” The words don’t come easily and when they do, they’re still clumsy, awkward.  Casey doesn’t mind.  “It scares me.” He looks at her while he speaks and she knows he’s genuine.  

 

She shifts, slowly pulling her legs up onto the bed, tucking them underneath her as she moves closer to Dennis.  “I get that.”  Casey says, her hand slowly creeping out to meet his own with tentativeness.  She’s not surprised that he feels this way, he’s reserved and withdrawn - a reflection of herself almost.  The differences are there of course, but the similarities ring even clearer.  “I’m willing to try though, if you are.” She suggests.  Trust is something that makes Casey uneasy, but trusting Dennis is something she genuinely wants to do.  His skin feels hot under hers.

 

“Of course.” He says finally after a brief pause.  He hates this, the burning need he has for her clashing constantly with the inane fears that threaten to smother him.  Both feelings are overwhelming, beyond suffocating and he hates it.  Casey moves her hand from his, resting it on his cheek instead.  It’s sort of a strange gesture from someone as closed-off as she is but the touch is relished.  Casey is by no means a gentle or delicate person, but the way she touches him is soft and full of care.  Her sharp eyes are softened by something he can’t quite place, dark pools that reflect the light from the lamp across the room.  “I know it’s weird.  But I still really like you.” She scoots a little bit closer to him, shuffling on her knees.

 

“I… I like you too.” It comes out stiff, awkward.  He wants to kiss her again, desperately wants to touch her but doesn’t want to scare her.  Once again, she’s so close to him, dark brown eyes gazing with their familiar intensity.  She’s close enough that he can feel the warmth when she exhales, can hear the click of her eyelids when she blinks.

 

Neither one of them truly initiates the kiss, it happens as more of a mutual series of movements.  It’s a suffocating and gratifying rush all at once to Dennis to feel her against him again.  It’s soft, gentle, but the cut on his lip still stings with pain against her lips.  He’s wanted this ever since she’d disappeared last night to go to sleep.  

 

It feels completely natural.  Casey has forced herself to do this before or been forced to, but this is different in every sense.  There are no tears, there’s no fighting against it.  There’s no sense of dread or disgust that she has to swallow, only a warm rush that fills her chest cavity.  Dennis isn’t forceful, he doesn’t push things any further.  She can sense his hesitance and touches his wrist, pulling away from him.

 

“You can touch me, if you want.” Her voice is a warm hush against his ear and he’s not sure if he could.  “..Are you sure?” Dennis asks.  “Only if you want.  You don’t have to.”

 

Of course he wants to.  He lets his hand move to her side, feeling her softness underneath the palm of his hand, the subtle curved slope of her body.  Her body is defined underneath the knit of her shirt and his thumb strokes across her ribs.  He’s scared that if this goes any further his grip on his self control might falter and slip and he’ll lose all of his careful restraint.

 

Casey shivers at the sensation of his hand on her side where she’s ticklish, sensitive.  It’s strange, surreal even though she’s done this many times before.  She’s not new to touch, but for some reason she suddenly feels enormously responsive to it now.  In the past, a touch had just been a touch, nothing more than that.  But when Dennis touches her, she feels a connection with him; A deep feeling that tunnels straight into her stomach.  Before, her thoughts would drift away at this point and her mind would go fuzzy, all thoughts absent.  But she’s present now, frighteningly so and she drinks in every sensation.

 

She wants to return the favor.  Her hand slowly moves across Dennis’ thigh, a slow and non-threatening movement.  He tenses underneath Casey’s touch and lets his gaze flit down to her hand on his upper leg.  It’s a bold move and he’s a little surprised that Casey’s not shying away from any of this, but actually encouraging it.  Dennis wonders if he should stop her.  He’s not sure he could bring himself to.

 

His hand is met with warm, soft skin when he slides it underneath her shirt, inhaling slowly as his touch travels across her chest.  He’s already starting to get stiff now, even more so when Casey’s hand rests against his crotch.  “Lay back.” She urges him and he obliges without complaint, slowly easing back onto his elbows while she gazes at him.

 

The feeling of her weight settled on top of him is a welcome pressure and he resists the urge to roll his hips against her, suppressing a moan when she places her hands on his chest.  “Is this okay?” She asks him.  It’s probably not, but he nods briskly.  “Mhm.” He assures her.  It’s dark outside now and he’s thankful for the warm glow of the lamp; He wants to see her like this, every bit of her. 

 

He admires the faint muscle in her arms as she stretches her arms above her head, shimmying her shirt off and letting it fall to the floor with a quiet swish.  The clothes on the floor don't bother him, he can ignore it for this.  Her body is soft, skin pale where it's usually hidden by her clothing.  His gaze continues to travel her torso, halting at the rough scars that traverse her stomach. 

 

There's a small, confused look that appears on his face and he forces himself to look back up at her.  "Who did this to you?" Dennis asks.  A frown crosses her face when he asks, letting him trace his fingertips across the blemishes.  "Me, mostly." Casey answers him plainly.  It's an embarrassment but she still shows this to him even if with a sense of careful caution. 

 

She's scared that he'll be disgusted by her skin.  Her veins show in some places where her skin is stretched a little thinner, old scars darkened by time.  It's not supple and soft like other girls her age, not browned by the summer sun or smooth to the touch.  Yet, he touches it anyways.  Dennis touches her skin with great admiration like it was something fragile, to be treasured, not something to hide with shame. 

 

"Mostly?" He whispers, not sure if he really wants the answer.  "Mostly." She glances around the topic. Her hands are gliding under his shirt now and he tenses when she lets them run back down his body and settle on his belt.  Casey looks back to him questioningly and he answers with a gentle nod, granting her permission to explore further.  There's some awkward fumbling with the belt and eventually he takes over to unlatch the buckle, jaw tensing when he raises his hips to slide the leather from the loops. 

 

Dennis is hard when she pulls him free, cock still trapped under the soft fabric of his briefs.  She touches him like this for a while, gently squeezing and rubbing to see what reactions she could evoke.  When she goes to remove her pants, he stops her with a firm hand. 

 

"Casey.." He already sounds winded and hates himself for it.  She doesn't answer him, simply stops and stares at him.  "Are you sure?.. About this?" He wants to be completely sure, he wants her to feel safe.  Dennis wants her to _want_ this.  She blinks and tucks her hair behind her ear before leaning forward.  "Of course I do, Dennis." She assures him and continues to clumsily step out of her pants, shaking the remaining leg off when it gets stuck over her foot. 

 

The scars on her belly travel down her upper thighs before trailing away into unblemished skin.  Casey lets him continue to touch her with curious fingers.  "I.. I've never really done this before." Dennis suddenly confesses, looking up at her.  "Never?" She doesn't mean to sound as surprised as she does, but it's definitely surprising that he's never done this.  Casey has experience, more than she really cares to have and now she learns he has next to none. 

Dennis inhales slowly and shakes his head.  "I just..." He stammers a little as he attempts to explain himself.  "I'm not really good with people. Or bodily fluids." He feels breathless.  "We can stop if you want." Casey doesn't look down on him for any of it, doesn't judge.  Dennis shakes his head.  "No." He hopes he doesn't sound desperate. 

"Just relax then, okay? If you feel like we should stop, tell me." Her voice is gentle and he nods slowly.  She finds it a little hard to believe that he's never done any of this but she wants to make sure that he feels fine with this.  

 

Casey grinds against him at a gentle, slow pace, Dennis tensing underneath the friction and pressure she provides.  A soft, shuddering breath escapes him as a warm feeling of lust begins to wash across him and his hands find their way to Casey's hips, gripping gently.  The friction of the cloth that separates their skin is addicting but he longs to feel her flesh and get even closer to her, wants to explore her even further.  He knows he has to take this slow; He wants to to savor all of it. 

His fingers slip into the waistband of her underwear and he pulls at them, a gesture for them to be removed.  There's a little bit of a struggle to keep her balance before they're off of her and she's naked now, fully exposed to Dennis.  No one besides her uncle has seen her like this, even the others she had experimented with hadn't seen this much of her.  Casey had always been reluctant to uncover but in front of Dennis she feels safe, truly and sincerely safe.

There's truly no holding back now and Dennis shifts off of his elbows, wrapping his arms around her bare torso as he kisses her.  It's inexperienced but passionate, planted on the sensitive crook of her neck where he sucks softly on her skin.  Her body twitches instinctively whenever his hands brush against the more sensitive, shy parts of her as he explores the different slopes and planes of her body.  There's no apprehension or fear, there's no panic, no hand pinning her against a wall or mattress.  There's no rough, gangly teenaged hands poking and prodding the all the wrong areas.  Just Dennis and his protective warmth, his gentle curiosity, his timidness and the strangely awkward innocence of it all.  Casey starts to realize that _this_ is what makes this enjoyable.  It's not about candles and romantic music, it's not about taking forcefully from others or letting others do as they please.  This is something she and Dennis share between them, a carnal connection.  For years, she'd never thought she would be able to open herself up to someone willingly and actually enjoy it and yet here she is, melting away under Dennis' cautious palms. 

She wouldn't want it any other way. 

She exhales as his kisses travel down her clavicle.  The feeling of his teeth will occasionally scrape against her skin and it sends shudders through her, a grand response for a gesture so simple.  It's difficult to let the moment end but she's curious and wants to push things even further.  "Here, take these off." She motions to his pants that are half way down his hips and he immediately obliges. She watches him quickly fold it before setting them on the floor, a half-smile crossing her face at the gesture.  His cock is almost painfully erect, plastered to his hip where it rests hard and heavy.  He's granted with the feeling of freedom when he removes his underwear as well.  She can't help but admire, clean shaven and kept just like the rest of him. 

Casey straddles his hips again and this time urges him to lay all of the way back, steadying herself with her gentle hands on the swell of his chest.  She doesn't try anything just yet, simply rocks her hips against his length at an easy pace.  There's no need to rush through anything.  A sigh quivers through Dennis as the warmth of her bare sex greets him, the sensation enveloping him like a slow wave.  His previous worries and anxieties have long vanished down the drain of his mind and at this point he wouldn't be able to stress about things even if he tried.  His brain can only focus on one thing- Casey.

When she finally sinks down on his length, Casey pauses, feeling a strong warmth spread through her stomach.  She doesn't want to start moving just yet, letting her core adjust to what's inside of her now.  He's not massive, but he's not small either and she doesn't want to hurt herself or take things too fast.  Dennis feels right underneath her, hands desperately clinging to her upper thighs.  "Slow, slow." He warns her.  He's bashful of how sensitive he is but Casey doesn't ridicule him, doesn't look down on him.  Dennis wonders if he's maybe had a stroke or something and everything he's experiencing is some strange dream he’s having in the depths of a coma.  But no, she's real, the tight wet heat that squeezes his cock is too much to not be real.  

His breath hitches when she starts moving, Casey’s small hand still pressed against his chest to keep her balance.  She relishes the feeling that swells in her lower abdomen as she moves up and down on his length, still taking things slowly.  "C-Casey.." He's breathless when she begins to quicken her pace, angling her hips just so to where the swollen head of his cock brushes against a particularly sweet spot.  She takes his hand into one of hers, pressing it above his head when she moves in to kiss him. His lips are amazingly soft and Casey feels a little ashamed at how chapped she's let hers get.  The thought quickly slips from her when Dennis' hips push upwards into her, a hushed gasp escaping her only to be muffled by their kiss. 

Casey is a little surprised when Dennis breaks the kiss and switches their position, gently rolling her onto her back.  He can feel her even deeper like this and he pants quietly when he thrusts into her.  Casey slides a leg around the back of his thigh to pull him closer, hand snaking into his to hold it tightly.  His other hand grips her hip gently as he can possibly stand to manage.  "I love you." She doesn't really understand what he says at first, his whisper smothered in the bend of her neck.  He loves her, he truly loves her and he's known it all along.  Dennis wants her to know, he wants to convey it to her through the movements in his hips, the touches he places on her.  

"I love you so much." Dennis repeats, his voice is an indistinct mix of a sob and a moan. 

"I love you too." Casey assures him, reaching up with a free hand to touch his face.  With this, his hips stutter and he draws out of her, the tight lust burning in his abdomen becoming too much to bear with her touch.  

It's quiet for a minute, save for the sound of their exasperated panting.  It's clear that the haze of the afterglow is beginning to clear from Dennis' mind and he carefully climbs off of the bed.  "I'm.. Sorry. I'll clean you up." He apologizes quietly and Casey smiles.  "You don't have to be sorry." She says.  However, she doesn't mind the idea of getting the slowly drying mess off of her stomach and she takes the hand that he offers her, pulling herself off of the bed.


End file.
